Remembrances of Lewis
by Angelinsydney
Summary: IT IS COMPLETE. A story of a hero's life in the eyes of his friends. His parents, sister and Team One reflect on their life and friendship with Lewis. Poignant, touching, liberating. I hope it resonates with you.
1. Lewis

_Author's Note: Set years before One Wrong Move – I have often wondered how Spike and Lou related to each other being very different personalities. They were the classic chalk and cheese. My usual offering of adventure, mystery, intrigue, laughter and love. In this case, agape love, meaning pure and unconditional._

**Lewis**

The sun was starting to peek out of thin summery clouds, he could see the sun rays through the gaps in the blinds. Lou forced himself to get out of bed, he smelt the aroma of his Mom's cooking wafting through the house, invading even the seclusion of his bedroom. He had slept long enough, he decided it was time to join the living. He showered and changed to a V-necked Tee and a pair of khaki-coloured walking shorts. As expected, he heard Spike in the kitchen regaling his Mom with stories. Her chuckles sounded delightful to his ears, that's one more reason it was such a joy having Scarlatti around.

"Mornin' Mom." He planted a kiss on her forehead and draped an arm around her, "Where's Dad?" He had always been an affectionate son to his mother, in the same way Spike was to his. She looked up at her drop dead gorgeous son who towered over her at 6' feet. She replied, "He's in the garage."

"I'll go see him, and Mom, don't let that guy," pointing at Spike who had taken centre stage in the kitchen, "take advantage of you." The Italian's eyes widened, "Who me? I'm a good boy." He flashed two facial orbs which Mom Y always found irresistible. Lou turned towards the backdoor to find his Dad, "Be right back."

The two constables hit it right off the bat. They were admitted to the Police Academy at the same time, where Spike finished at the top of the class academically while Lou was best in just about every physical aspects – shooting, obstacle course, and all manner of sports. They were picked to join the elite Team One of the Strategic Response Unit, Lou just slightly ahead of Spike which made the Techie the Team's rookie. This weekend they were going to jointly celebrate, at Spike's insistence, their first year anniversary with SRU.

Shortly, Lou returned to the kitchen with his Dad, who spotted Spike sitting on the kitchen bench, "Did you sleep well last night, Spiky?"

"Awesome," he said. "The guest bedroom is perfect for weekends away." It was a well deserved compliment, Lou's Mom and Dad made every effort to make him feel welcome with nice little touches like leaving Italian Opera CDs on the side table so he could listen to some of his favorite singers.

"Don't get used to it," warned Lou, feigning displeasure of his parents absolute devotion to his friend. Spike threw an orange at him which he caught with ease. He peeled it easily and ate it with gusto. There was nothing to be jealous about as it's been a case of quid pro quo with the _other_ Mom. Whenever Lou visited his house, Mom S would lay out the red carpet.

"Don't be eating the fruit now," Mrs Young admonished, "I made pancakes."

"I'm not liking this Mom, you always make pancakes when Spike's visiting but never when it's just me." His Mom playfully kicked his shin, "Since when have you visited without your shadow?" Lou grinned at his Mom because truthfully since his parents moved to retire to Lake Simcoe, he's always visited with Spike, never by himself. His friend was a great driving companion for his entertainment value.

After a hearty breakfast which comprised not just of pancakes but of crisp bacon, scrambled eggs, grilled tomatoes and slices of pineapple , they changed into broad shorts to go swimming. Lake Simcoe was a popular tourist destination for people interested in water sport. They went out of the house barefoot, carrying with them a bottle of sunscreen, beach towels, water bottles, a book for Spike. They trekked the 30 minute walk to the beach in jovial conversation, well more accurately, in jovial monologue. Lou liked to listen and to communicate in his usual non-verbal ways.

At the beach, Lou attracted plenty of admiration from males and females alike with his dark, handsome look and marvelous physique. His muscles put on display as he battled the waves doing mini-marathon swimming. Spike, on the other hand, attracted lots of attention from matrons as he contentedly stretched out on the sand reading his book. He only went in for a swim after he finished speed-reading the soon-to-be-years-from-now classic 'Harry Potter and the Prince of Darkness' tome.

At around 1pm, it was time to head back, but now the sandy beach and pavement were sizzling under the hot summer sun. The men ran with their toes curled up going "Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch." One observant five-year-old watched them traversed the sandy beach in comical fashion, she belly laughed herself silly to the amusement of everyone watching.

They alternately ran and hopped all the way that they halved the time it took to get home. Later that night, their feet had blisters from the sand burn, for which, Dad Y and Mom Y teased them for being "silly duffers."

Lou and Spike spent the rest of their celebration in the air-conditioned comfort of home, feet up to aid the healing of their soles. To pass the time they played Scrabble, which became very heated when Spike insisted on words that hadn't yet entered the lexicon but which he defended vigorously as proper words, like 'LOL.'

"That's not even a word," said Lou in a rare display of annoyance at his friend.

"Yes, it is. It is even a sentence on it's own."

After a series of protests and appeals, Lou decided it was time to abandon the game of Scrabble and play poker instead. Spike couldn't cheat on poker plus he was 'easy to read', this time, Lou insisted they play for real money. "Game on," said Spike. By dinner time, his wallet was a lot lighter.

They ordered pizza, delivered still warm, to save Mom Y more time in the kitchen, she had already done enough. Dinner was shared in the living room watching hockey. That night, he won back all the money he lost at poker.

"Pay up," Spike gleefully rubbed his fingers together. Lewis handed him his winnings but not before challenging him to a game of billiard, "Tomorrow at the village centre."

"Game on," he said.

Lewis went to bed happily spending the $200.00 inside his head, Spike on the other hand was already investing it, until he realised he had never played a game of billiard in his life! He patted his wallet and mentally kissed the $200.00 away again!


	2. Behind the 8 Ball

**Behind the 8 Ball**

Lewis was in the kitchen, bright and early, helping Mom Y prepare an exquisite Jamaican breakfast. He looked adorable with a flowery apron on, his mother commented that domestication suited him. Lewis curtsied and bowed before her, "That's because you raised me well, Mom."

"By the way, where's Spike? He's normally in the kitchen this time of day. What time did you boys go to bed last night?"

"I was lights out at mid-night... don't know 'bout him. We retired after the hockey, maybe he chatted with some ladies online. I'll go see...". He removed his apron, washed his hands and towel dried them before walking off to the guest bedroom.

He knocked softly, there was no answer. _Interesting. _ He knocked louder, still no answer. Curious he opened the door to peep in, Spike wasn't in bed but his laptop was. He walked in, that's when he heard the shower running, _ok..._ but the laptop on the bed was... _um_...beckoning him to have a look. He felt rather um... naughty... invading his friend's privacy but what the heck Spike would soon tell him who he's dating anyway. Later if not soon.

He turned it around, the machine was asleep. He pressed a space bar and it came alive to a page 'How to Play Billiard.' _Ah._ He turned the laptop back the other way and left.

"He's in the shower, Mom."

"Well, that means we'll be having breakfast soon, I'll set the table, you go get Dad. He's in the garden, he started a new project, building a garden pergola."

"K...back in 10."

Ten minutes later they were all seated at the table to partake of traditional Jamaican breakfast. Lewis' favourite, _Ackee & Saltfish_.

Ackee, the national fruit of Jamaica has the texture of scrambled egg. The ackee fruit is bright red. When ripe, it bursts open to reveal three large black seeds and bright yellow flesh. Salt cod is sautéed with boiled ackee, onions, scotch bonnet (habaneros) peppers, tomatoes, and spices, such as black pepper and garlic. Served with boiled green banana, dumpling, and fried sweet plantains

"What are your plans today boys?" Young senior asked.

"We're going to the village centre to play billiard and I'm gonna whump his ass," said Spike feeling confident after his late tutorial courtesy of Google, Lewis shook his head and smiled. He's not buying it, even if Spike could do geometric calculations in his head in his sleep, there was still a lot of physical stuff one had to learn to do with the pool cue, _and that, my friend you can't learn from Google_.

"When you guys are done playing, would you boys give me a hand with my building project?"

"What are you building?" asked the house guest.

"I'm erecting a garden pergola."

"Ok, I'm good with the hammer," said Spike, always the eager beaver. Lewis started laughing.

Spike turned to look at him. "What's so funny?"

"That you're good with the hammer, remember the time you flattened your left hand in the basement at SRU. Your hollering was heard upstairs."

He playfully punched Lewis' upper arm, "Hey, that was ages ago, I was fresh out of the Academy but I've had lots of practice with the hammer since."

The teasing went back and forth, and stopped only when the last morsel of breakfast was gone. Lewis and Spike cleared the table and washed up before heading out. "Wear footwear this time," reminded Mom Y. Lou opted for a pair of outdoorsy sandals, Spike wore his canvas shoes.

They were the first to arrive at the village centre so got to book a table for a couple of hours. "Would you like me to teach you a thing or two about playing billiard?" asked Lewis as he lined up the 8th ball on the table.

"Nah... but you go first," said Spike.

"K."

Lewis went first, Spike studied his stance. How he handled the cue, how far he leaned in on the table, how high or low he held the stick, and how he positioned himself. Possessing a sharp mind, geometry wasn't the problem, he knew angles and distance and velocity and speed, he could compute all these variables in his head but how to shot the ball to make it do what you wanted it to do was another thing entirely.

They played three games in the span of two hours, Spike lost three out of three but they were close matches. He was mighty proud of himself for not getting his ass whumped. Lewis showed him a open palm, he happily deposited $200 on it, On the way home, Lewis asked why he didn't object to the challenge knowing he had a higher than average chance of losing.

"What made you think I could possibly lose?"

Lewis smiled, "I came in to get you when you were in the shower. I saw your (air quotes) How to play billiard tutorial page. Did you really not play it before?"

The Italian laughed, "Yeah, it just never happened, my nose was always buried in books and other pursuits. You played it like you own the game, man."

"I grew up in a tough neighbourhood, buddy. The only way out of being bashed was to be good at something, so I became village prince of the billiards. I had to win all the time though cos the gang's money was on me, if I lost I'd lose more than my head."

"How did your family manage to escape from there?"

"Escape" was an interesting choice of word, Lewis appreciated the appropriateness in this context. The ghetto was prison for many people, although it wasn't padlocked at night and it wasn't surrounded by barbed wires and watched by authorities from a watch tower, it was a prison nevertheless. An economic prison, a mental prison and a moral prison for some.

"Dad worked two jobs. Mom took great care to make sure Cheryl and I were safe, kept a close eyes on us. She saved every penny, bought things cheap... as soon as we could afford it we moved out of the 'hood. Mom went back to work when Cherry was in high school and I was year 5, things gradually got better but we still counted the pennies."

"Speaking of Cherry, where is she now?"

"Doing her medical mission with the Red Cross in Somaliland. Mom and Dad are always worried but she's a big girl and she's gone with a team this time."

"Wow, I take my hat off to her. She's amazing,"

"That she is. Mom and Dad doesn't know it yet but she's in love with an English doctor, from what little she's told me it's getting very serious. It'd devastate Mom. She'd like her to stay close by but I'm sure they'll come around if she decides to marry this chap."

Before they knew it, they were home. The table was laden with goodies, the highlight for Spike being the coconut juice. Jamaican fare was Mom's specialty being a transplant from that beautiful country. One day they would visit and they would go to Ocho Rios.

They ate until it was criminally homicidal. They rested for an hour to allow them to digest their food then it was off to help Dad with the garden pergola. Spike enjoyed the "puzzle" bit, that's what he called the building kit's instruction guide. Anyone who tried to assemble an Ikea furniture and failed knew what Spike meant.

From the guide he analysed what needed to be done first. With his brain, Lewis' muscle and his Dad's experience, it was done in no time. Tomorrow, Young senior would paint it and would start to plant the garden around it. But for now they're done.

They showered and packed their bags, the weekend was over and it was time to head back to the big smoke. They flipped a coin to decide who's driving. Spike decided that if he won the toss, he'd gagged Lewis, he's a terrible long distance back seat driver. His friend hardly says "boo" majority of the time until he's not in control of the wheels then he would go, "Brake, brake." Or ask stupid questions like "Is your indicator on?" Thankfully, Lewis won the toss, then all he had to do was be entertaining.

When they reach Spike's place Lewis asked if he'd like to attend the Comics Con in two weeks, he brightened up, "Course, I would."

Lewis patted his breast pocket and said, "I won some mullah, I'm paying for the tickets. See ya at work tomorrow." Spike waved to Lewis and appreciated the spirit of his friend's generosity.


	3. Where's Lewis? Where's Spike?

**Where's Lewis? Where's Spike?**

SRU was used to seeing Spike and Lewis together. They were like Abbott and Costello, Batman and Robin, Starsky and Hutch, Thelma and Louise. They're always together. In the gym, in the basement, in the Truck, in the cafeteria, one time they were seen out on the town on a double date.

Jules asked why they don't just move in together, Spike said, "No way. Do you how much he eats? Plus he doesn't like playing Warcraft."

When Jules asked Lewis, he replied, "No way. Do you know how much he eats? Please he doesn't ever stop playing that damn game."

"You mean Warcraft?"

"Yeah that. The Boss should make him Sierra One, he'd fulfil his infantile obsession with shooting bad guys." Jules smiled, there's a modicum of truth to it.

There was a terrible downside to always being seen together because Lewis noticed that people don't ask the right and proper question anymore. People should be asking, "Have you seen Spike?" Not "Where's Spike?" _How the hell should I know_, he thought. But Lewis being Lewis he was always laconic, like talking would actually make him choke.

One day, after being asked ten times "Where's Spike?" Lewis stopped, put his hands in his pockets and turned them inside out. He said, "He's not in my pocket." He patted his back pocket, "He's not there either." Then he stated the obvious, "I don't know where he is."

One day, Spike came in to the locker room and dropped his gym bag at the foot of his locker and complained. Lewis was changing into his uniform, "What's with these people?" Spike said, "Every time they see me they asked, 'Where's Lou?' How the hell should I know where you are half the time."

Lewis shook his head and said, "Well, that makes two of us. 'Where's Spike?'" He mimicked Winnie, the duty despatcher. Scarlatti tossed him an old sock, Lewis just had time to move out of the way, stared at the offending article and said, "Call the Anti-terror squad, that's nuclear."

But there was also so much upside to being together a lot. On "Hot calls," they knew their part well. They each knew they've got each other's back. But for Spike there was another upside, his friend was happy to be in the foreground. Happy to let the limelight fall on other people and the beneficiary of that mostly was Spike.

One dark night, Spike was getting ready for bed when he got a call from Mom Y, "Spiky, do you know where Lewis is? He didn't make it home this morning. We're worried. He's not answering his phone." He listened to his friend's sobbing Mom, "Mom, don't worry, I'll find him. Ok, I'll let you know the minute I find out something."

She calmed down a little, "Cheryl's home from Somaliland. He couldn't have missed this occasion for anything." Cherry aka Cheryl was Lewis beloved older sister, she's been with the Red Cross overseas for one and half years and being close siblings Spike knew something was wrong if his friend wasn't home for her homecoming.

"Ok, Mom, I'm on it."

Spike decided technology would do the job. If his friend was missing and his cell phone was still functioning, he'd find him. He had a device that could locate cell phone signals. On a hunch, he followed the route Lewis would have taken. The two of them had taken this many times and he could navigate this road blind-folded. As soon as he was out of the City limits, he turned on the gadget, he also plugged it in the car to recharge so he didn't risk losing power.

When they got to the bushy part of Yonge Road, a faint light came on. He felt icy fear in this veins, he suddenly felt as cold as the weather outside. If Lewis was in a motor accident on the main road, people would have already reported finding wreckage but the fact nothing had been reported made him feel ill. It could only mean that Lewis was down a cliff somewhere, concealed in the bushes.

The darkness aided him, plus the fact he was actually looking. He saw a faint light among the trees as he made for a soft curve. His heart jumped. The signal in the device was stronger, Lewis was down there. He was sure, but where? He couldn't risk going down alone without protection and climbing equipment. He called emergency services and reported the accident. He also called the Boss. They spoke briefly. Greg called the rest of his team to let them know Lewis was in a vehicular accident somewhere along Yonge St on the way to Barrie where his parents lived.

Spike debated with himself whether he should call Mom, but what was he saying to say, 'Yes, I found his car but not him.' No, he decided he couldn't do that to her. He'd wait until he knew more.

He parked his car on the side of the road and pulled three orange cones from the back of his car. He was nervous as hell, _Where are they?_ He dialled 911 again. He was told EMS had scrambled to get there as soon as possible. He looked at the time, it's only been 5 minutes since he reported it but it felt like an hour. "Hang in Lou," he heard himself say.

Lewis was conscious, he didn't know what happened. One minute he was happily driving down the road, suddenly he heard a loud impact! A semi-trailer hit him from behind, pushing his small car on a skid towards the unguarded cliff. He had the presence of mind to brace himself against the steering wheel, tried to go limp so his body could take the impact much better than if he was very rigid. He remembered his car smashing into the trees head long, the window screen shattering into a million pieces.

He was in severe pain, something somewhere… were broken bones. Despite the pain, he mentally checked that he could move his fingers. They moved. He saw them move. He tried to feel his toes. He could feel his toes. He hoped that the driver of the other vehicle had the decency to call EMS but after an hour he knew the bastard was going to leave him for dead. He prayed.

He could hear his phone ringing, it was under his seat but he couldn't reach it without rocking the vehicle off its perch. It was dangling precariously, he could feel it rock when the wind whip up in a frenzy. The physical, emotional and mental pain was excruciating.

Lewis was in and out consciousness. He couldn't recall how long since the accident happened. He was glad to still be feeling the pain though because it meant he was alive. He always had a foreboding that he would die young. _But not today. Not tonight. I have to speak to my Mom. Whenever it might happen I have to tell my folks I love them. I have to tell my friend a word of wisdom. Not tonight, Lord, not tonight._

Due to the great distance from the closest City with appropriate emergency equipment it took a good 20 minutes before fire truck and EMS arrived. By this time, Spike had gone nearly out of his mind with worry. "What took so long?" he asked the EMS abruptly and angrily. "My friend's been there since this morning, we've got to get him out."

It was getting dark, but rescue personnel had to think through their strategy, not plunge in head long into danger and that took time. Planning took time. Spike wasn't helping. Finally, the EMS Boss had had enough, "You're getting in the way! Sit in your car and cool your ass!" He did as he was told but was out of the car again in five minutes.

"Lou, hang it there, buddy!" He said repeatedly. He grabbed his head in a vice grip and yelled out, "Ahhh!" EMS stopped to watch him verbalise his frustration.

Lewis felt peace. He felt an assurance. He's not going tonight… not anywhere. 'Where's Spike?' he asked himself amusedly. _I hope he's looking for me. If anyone can find me in this hell hole, it's him._

Another 30 minutes before Greg Parker arrived with Sam Braddock. He went straight to the chief emergency crew, "Hi, I'm Sargent Greg Parker. Who's in charge?" Sam homed in on Spike who was struggling to stay calm.

A man the size of Jules fronted up to him, "Officer David Winney. " They shook hands. Winney briefed Parker about the strategy they were going to put into play. The Sargent listened and thanked him, he turned around to each member of the rescue squad and thanked them, too.

Winney then said, "Parker, is that your boy there?" He turned in the direction of Winney's pointed finger, "Yes, why?"

"Tell your boy to wind his head in, we're doing our best. God, he was a pain in the butt," Winney followed this with a loud groan. Parker smiled, "Sorry, that's his best friend down there, in fact, they're more like brothers. We'll leave you to do what you do best."

Spike's phone jiggled, he looked at the screen, Mom Y. _Dear God, what will I say to her?_ He saw the Boss approaching, he handed the phone to him and said, "Please." Parker took the phone and in his usually unflappable manner explained they've found Lewis' car in the bushes. He added that he would call every hour, on the hour to update them.

It's been an hour since the crew arrived and nothing seemed to happen. Spike went over to Winney, "What are you guys doing? What are you waiting for?"

Sam hurried over and took Spike away, "Calm down, Scarlatti. They're doing their best, ok?"

Five minutes passed, finally something seemed to happen, a chopper flew overhead, hovered over the trees, a man came down on a rope. It caused a lump to form in their throat. This was such a tricky thing to do. A matter of life and down for the chopper pilot and the rescuer. Any missed cues and they were all going to die trying to get to Lewis.

Lewis Young opened his eyes, he felt the car moving back and forth due to the wind generated by the chopper's rotors, he gripped the sides of the car seat, certain that any minute now, he was going to get plunged head long into the foot of the forest. But he wasn't. A friendly face peered into the broken wind screen and was glad to have found him alive. The radio crackled to life, "He's alive." A whoop went up among the rescue crew. One of them hurried to Greg, Sam and Spike, "He's alive!"

The specialist rescue crew secured the car as best he could with a rope. That done, he spoke to Lewis through the window, "I'm going to open the car door. Unclip you from your seat. I will take you around the waist, with your injuries, it will hurt like hell."

Lewis nodded. But it was tricky. All of it. The looming darkness. The wind. The precarious setting of his car. Lewis' multiple injuries. If was going to happen with a successful outcome, it would be on a wing and a prayer. Everyone prayed.

They watched with bated breath. Watched through binoculars, saw the car rocked backwards and forward. The specialist rescuer managed to open the door, unclip Lewis out of the car seat, he had just gotten a grip of Lewis' hand when the car tilted backwards, they all gasped.

Now Lewis was in the rescuer's grip but it wasn't ideal. He had his one hand, not his waist as they hoped. There was no time to waste. The chopper pilot started to move. The rescuer and Lewis desperately held on to each other, hoping against hope neither would let go. Both of them were thinking, _Don't let go. Dear God, don't let go._

It was a testament to both of their training and strength. "Give me your other hand," the rescuer shouted, Lewis tried to left his other hand but couldn't, the skeleton was detached from the muscles. "I can't move it," they were lip-reading each other. The rotors blade was generating too much noise.

The distance to the roadside wasn't far, thank God, within one minute the chopper was hovering over the highway. Slowly lowering Lewis and the rescuer down.

Spike hugged Sam tightly, "Thank God."

He went to see his friend and said, "You shouldn't go home without me."

Lewis smiled and whispered, "If you were with me, who'd have found us?" Good question.

Spike called Mom Y and told her the good news. They celebrated Cheryl's homecoming in the hospital critical care.

From then on, they didn't mind answering to "Where's Lewis?" and "Where's Spike?"


	4. Gentle Soul

**Gentle Soul**

The Team gathered for a briefing, each given their assignment for the day. It was with religious regularity that either Sargent Greg Parker or Team Leader First Officer Ed Lane would assign Lewis Young as "non-lethal sniper" much to Scarlatti's unbridled amusement. Lewis, on the other hand, would be heard to say, "Again" with a shake of his pretty head.

The protestation never went further than that so the Team knew given half the chance Lewis would want to fire his gun just like any normal testosterone-filled male but he wouldn't want to kill either. _Not in his nature_, the Sarge and the TL decided.

The year before, which was his rookie year, Team One was charged with mobilizing against anarchists, disguised as anti-G8 protesters. Front-line as often the case were the Mounted Police on their beautiful horses. Majestic animals. Elegant. Peaceful. Well-trained. Faithful to their humans.

In the middle of the day, an unknown, cowardly anarchist threw a lit gas bottle into the line of Mounted Police. The exploding gas caused the horses to either charge or retreat depending on how best to avoid the home-made explosive. A melee ensued. Many of the mostly peaceful protesters were trampled under foot; others hurt by the direct explosion.

Riot police cordoned off a section of the City when a handful of anarchist continued to taunt and harassed police officers to get a reaction. SRU Teams were deployed to "keep the peace." As the mop up operation begun, after seven hours of intermittent running battle with trouble makers, Lewis chanced upon a severely injured police officer. He called for EMS.

The horse caught his attention too, as it lied injured side by side with its human, two of its hind legs looking decided disfigured, It was neighing at him, as if speaking to him. He gazed at its eyes, stroked its mane. Perhaps it was his imagination, perhaps not, but the horse appeared to be crying. "You're in pain, I know." He spoke to it with comforting words.

The EMS arrived to attend to the semi-conscious officer, and noticed the horse too. "Buddy," he whispered, "You've got to shot it."

As if deaf, Lewis continued to stroke its mane, blind to the destruction around him. The EMS left him be and attended to the injured officer until he was ready to be stretchered off the scene of carnage. The compassionate paramedic tapped him on the shoulder this time, "Officer, you've got to shot it. Mercy killing, you know? It's never going to walk again. And it would be in pain if you don't do something about it."

Lewis turned to the paramedic and nodded, "I know. Take care of him would you," glancing down at the downed Police Officer. The man in white said, "We will. Take care of yourself."

Young waited until they were several foot away, then gazed back at the horse. He aimed his Remington at its head, closed his eyes and fired. The act done, he opened his eyes to see the shattered skull of the horse. He crouched down by the horse's side and tearfully apologised, "I'm so sorry." That was how Sarge found him.

Greg kept a respectful distance and knew from that moment on that the young gentle soul didn't have it in him to kill. He's a fine officer but he would be a fine mess if he had to kill anyone. The wise Sargent took this to heart.

Two days later, Lewis still carried the trauma of killing an injured horse. Ed Lane found him in the locker room with a copy of the front page of the newspaper reading about the demonstration and the police being criticised again for the "mishandling" of the G8 protest. The front page was the injured horse lying on its back in the foreground, the background showed a group of protesters running away from the scene.

"Are you ok, buddy?" Ed asked. He sat next to Lewis, rubbed the young man's back. He felt the muscles tensed. Lewis covered his face with the newspaper and exhaled into it. Seconds later, he said, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Ed thought, _You could have fooled me,_ but held his tongue. Lewis didn't need a talking to right now, so he gave him space. Now, wasn't the time and the moment.

He got up, "If you want to talk, I'm here for you."

"Yeah," Lewis glanced up at his TL, smiled with sad eyes and said, "It just got ugly, you know."

Ed's ocean blue eyes stared back at him, and responded compassionately, "And it gets uglier. I hope you never see that side of things... ever."

The Team Leader went in search of the Sargent, "Need to talk to you."

"Sure, come in... it's about Lewis?"

"Uhum... I think we need to send him to counseling. Seriously. He's burdened with killing that horse."

"Sit down," Greg Parker leaned back on the chair, adjusted his position so he was looking away from the sun's glare streaming in through the glass windows. "He's not burdened, he's saddened. Big difference. He knew he did the right thing, he's not arguing within himself about that. He's just sad it had to happen."

Parker continued, "We need people like him in the Force. Strong and gentle at the same time."

Ed Lane nodded, "Let's keep him non-lethal." The Top Guns of Team One smiled at each other, they knew they found the ideal solution. So Non-lethal Lewis was born.

Team One sensed that Lewis' protestations were mainly half hearted anyway. "Again," he'd say followed by a shake of the head and a smack on the desk.

Jules knew if Lewis was genuine he'd be crying out loud because she knew she would. She'd be jumping up and down and saying things like, "It's Jules' Day."

Scarlatti knew his friend didn't mind. And he (Lewis) didn't mind him (Spike) having a laugh at his (Lewis) expense.

Lewis couldn't care less about Spike's reaction. Every time he (Spike) showed amusement regarding his "non-lethal" assignation, Lewis had a passing thought, _Even if you have real bullets, you'd go non-lethal, too. That makes us even._

But being the wise gentle soul that he was, he didn't let on to Spike that he knew him better than he knew himself.


	5. Rapelling Duo

**Rappelling Duo**

Jules looked up the roof of the SRU HQ and smiled. Her rapelling partner, Lewis would be up there anally checking every strand of ropes, carabiners, muncher hitches, nuts, harnesses, prusiks, hexes, and spring-loaded camming devices. _You name it, he'd checked it_, she mused happily. _I better not get use to this and become slacked at checking these things myself. _It's easy to become spoiled when working with the best crew. She got up to the top using only the stairs; hardly anyone used the elevator other than visitors.

"Hey, Lou." She greeted him warmly, wrapping an arm around the tall young man with an exotic Caribbean looks. He leaned in to put his chin on her head holding a bunch of ropes. "Ready to practice the Aussie rappel?" he asked.

"What are we doing that for? We're not going to war or anything." Australian rapelling or abseiling as UK and Southern cousins refer to it was the technique also known as the "Carabina Rundown", internationally known as the Aussie Rapel because of its origin. Developed in the 1960's, it involved running down building facing the ground. It's a military 'assault' technique whereby a soldier is belayed, allowing them to face down the descent and fire a weapon.

"You'll never know... it's good to be proficient in all form of rapel, we can't be sure we'll only ever be performing rescues." Lewis winked at her. She enjoyed this time with the young man who was subdued, unobtrusive, but a quiet achiever. In practice, she always landed on her feet first.

She teased Lewis for being anal with safety, "How many times have you checked every piece of equipment?" she asked cheekily. "Tell you what, Lou, you won't die falling to the ground but you'd die because you're too anal. Someone's bound to shot you before you could hook yourself in the rope." She admonished. Lewis laughed silently. _Even his laughter's silent._

"Let's do it," he said.

Always up to the challenge, the little firebrand said, "Ten dollars said I'll be down there before you." He said, "I don't need to waste a good $10. I'll just buy you a double-double." They shook hands on that.

The "Carabina Rundown" was just for fun. For the heck of it. "Just for the adrenaline rush," he said. The Boss was in but he was indoors, no one to tell them to quit monkeying about. "Nothing to it," she said, accepting the challenge.

As expected, Jules hit the ground first by milliseconds, which had absolutely nothing to do with who was an expert at rapelling. People who didn't rapel thought wrongly that getting on the ground first was the mark of being an expert at it. If you're not afraid of heights and you're reasonably confident you can rope or run down a building. You either can or can't, simple as that. Experts however could get themselves out of sticky situation, that's where you separate the thrill seeker from the genuine mccoy. And all SRUs were expert at it.

Once Lewis went rock climbing on his own and rapelled down a cliff only to discover before he reached the end of his rope he miscalculated, it being three metres short off the ground. Jumping down and breaking a leg wasn't an option. Training kicked in.

He always had two prusiks with him whenever he went rock climbing. He tied the first prusik to the rope and clipped this to his harness. Tied a second prusik with a longer loop of cord to the rope, and formed a slip knot in its tail and slipped one foot through the knot.

He stood up on the foot prusik, once the harness prusik is unweighted, he slid it up as high as he could reach. Sat down and weighted the harness prusik once more, and then slid the foot prusik up a comfortable distance. He repeated the whole process over and over again.

As a safety precaution, he tied off the slack end of the rope, using figure eight on a bite at progressive intervals and clipped this to harness. To avoid having a clutter of these knots hanging off his harness, he untied and released each previous one. Although other climbers prefer the clutter against the potential of getting the trailing rope snagged far below, he preferred less clutter.

It took a considerable time as he had to ascend up close to 35 metres. He vomited from sheer exhaustion when he reached the top of the cliff as the adrenaline wore off. He never told anyone the story except Jules.

Once the Aussie rapel was over and done with, they went back up to the top to practiced what was required for rescue operations in earnest.

First they practiced tandem or spider rappelling. It involved two climbers descending on the same belay device. Mastery of this technique was crucial to their role as this was mostly done in rescue situations when one of the climbers is incapacitated or the descent needs to be done quickly. It's similar to a regular rappelling set up with the first climber's girth hitched off a sling into the descender on the carabiner, and has an auto-block from belay loop of the harness to the rope as a backup. The second rappeller is also girth hitched into the belay device on the carabiner and anchored into the main rappeller's harness as a back-up.

That done, Lewis and Jules went back up the rooftop, this time to do the simul rappelling. This involved two separate rappellers on the two strands of the rope running through the anchors. Jules and Lewis need to descend at the same speed, anchored into each other to avoid one getting ahead and causing problems. One getting ahead could easily mean permanent incapacitation or death to either one of them.

Satisfied with the result, they went back up the roof top to practice counterbalance rappelling. This was typically used by a leader to reach an injured second. The idea was to rappel off on one strand of rope, using the incapacitated second's weight on the other strand of the rope to counterbalance. They did this with great difficulty, Lewis being much heavier than Jules. But Jules wasn't going to be put off. They would practice this and find ways to counterbalance each other if it killed her.

Lewis joked that she had to grow taller and eat more which earned the delicious young man a sharp smack on the shoulder. "You're too violent," he said, "I don't know why I enjoy doing this with you."

"Because I'm the best of the best," Lewis didn't argue.

There were two more techniques to practice, Lewis wondered if they should do these another day, "No way," she said. "Today is the today."

They climbed back up to the roof to practice releasable abseil used by some with inexperienced abseiler, who were mostly people they were bound to rescue. This was done with a rope anchored with a munter hitch and locked off the non-rappelling strand of the rope. The inexperienced abseiler or rapeller descends on the non-locked strand of the rope. The guide unlocks the other strand and lowers the subject who was in trouble. This was always useful with an inexperienced rappeller or when a rappeller gets into trouble like getting a piece of clothing or hair entangled in the descender.

Lastly, they performed the classical or non-mechanical method, generally considered the most dangerous technique and used only in emergencies when no other option is available. This involved descending without aid of mechanical devices, by wrapping the rope around the body. This technique was used before harnesses and hardware were invented.

One of these days, they told each other they would attempt SAS-style fast roping. They shook hands on this, eager to know how it would be like. _Braddock beware_, Jules thought. He couldn't be the only one at Team One to know how to do it, there was just far too much healthy competitiveness among the team. Later, they would become master at fast roping because this rapelling duo never say die.

At the end of their practice run, Wordy and Ed Lane chanced upon them. The Team Leader commented with something like it being "All sass, no class. And Jules retorted with "All brawn, no brain". Lewis stayed quiet as usual.


	6. Full Moon

**Full Moon**

It was a very quiet afternoon so the Boss gathered them, "_We've got no calls yet, but tonight there's gonna be a full moon so..._"

Braddock casually replied, _"So?"_

Parker commented, _"__So full moons they make people crazy, proven fact so... gonna call tonight patrol night. Alright do a little Team One PR, let the city know we're here, keep the bad guys on their toes."_

The usual suspect, Spike Scarlatti raised his hand first. "_Cl__ub district? Me and Lou? There's all kinds of troubles there all the time." _ The Sarge grinned, _Sure_, he thought amusedly. But he was a hot-blooded young guy himself once upon a time so he gave the two young Constables their preferred area, "_Fine... patrol happy hour, all those very threatening young women in tube tops, but just uh, button up._"

Spike apologised and buttoned up his shirt, Parker added, _"Be good, look good."_

The Italian glanced at his partner in crime who was quiet as a church mouse. He knew his friend would be thinking exactly the same thing, _Look good, hell yeah, but be good? _A cute smirk lit up his face. Lewis caught his friend's facial expression and rolled his eyes. But not that he objected in the least. He would be having just as much fun.

The Boss spoke too soon though. The quiet afternoon was no longer quiet half an hour later because Rebecca Kessfield happened. A beautiful, strong-willed woman whose love for her sister, Sadie, knew no bounds. The peace was short-lived because Sgt Pete Fitzhaven happened, a decorated police officer and a closet wife basher. The quiet afternoon turned into one hell of a day to remember.

The chase ended in the Lake Ontorio harbour where Fitzhaven had a boat moored. There and then, it could have easily resulted badly for Rebecca and by extension Team One. For a time, they thought she was the perpetrator because by witnesses accounts, it was she who had been stalking the Sargent.

The truth came out thanks to Constable Sam Braddock who swam out fully clothed to attach a listening device on the side of the boat so they could hear what was going on inside it. But mostly, it was First Officer Kevin "Wordy" Wordsword's intuition that there was more to it than meets the eye that saved the day. When Wordy, with their Team Leader Ed lane visited Mrs Sadie Fitzhaven at home the tell-tale signs of violent behavior couldn't be missed. Her denials of abuse could have fooled everyone but not Wordy.

With the situation escalating, Wordy made a call to Sadie. In a private moment, just the two of them, Constable Wordsworth made an open heart confession, "_You remind me of this girl, a girl from my neighborhood growing up. She was smart, she was funny, she was beautiful. And then she got married... real young to this guy who beat the crap out of her. The thing about Shelley was that she's such a tough cookie, that it took us, I don't know, two years to figure it out. Two years... before I realised why she wore turtlenecks in the summer. Before I figured out why she's always looking so scared. Two years before I could help her get out of that marriage, before anyone could help her get away. And you know what? If I'd been given half a chance, I would have killed him."_

Sadie came clean about the abuse. Her sister had been pulling her out of her situation these many years, confronting her. Reasoning with her. Fighting with her. Bullying her almost. But in spite of Rebecca's best efforts she couldn't, wouldn't, leave her abusive husband. Today though, someone gave her a gentle push. It was the nudge she needed. She had reached her saturation point. Her tipping point. It was time. It was time not to be a victim anymore.

Police officers didn't like arresting one of their own, Team One was no exception but today was different. He, Sgt fitzhaven, had a sworn duty to protect and should have protected the one under his wings first and foremost.

The arrest done. They breathe a collective sigh of relief that it ended well. By their own measure they did keep the peace. No one died and later tonight, if nothing else arose that required their skill set, they would patrol the City.

They went home to HQ. Debriefed, then used the rest of the afternoon to write their report. They had to be especially careful and accurate as the subject was one of their own. That done, they headed East, North and West of the City in pairs as previously assigned.

Lou and Spike arrived at the club district and were instant hits. Girls of all ages surrounded them, admiring the "cool pants." Since they were on duty, they kept their demeanor strictly professional though they had to fend off some very overt proposition from some sexually charged females. Some were audacious enough to ask for their names and phone numbers and to hand over their own. It would be fair to say that neither of them were tempted.

Strange as it may seem, Lewis the quiet one, was more confident around women. He had a way with them, the sort of fellow the so-called fairer sex referred to "quiet but deadly." Possessing an intriguing personality, soft-spoken but self-assured, he wasn't short of women falling all over him.

Spike, on the other hand, was funny and out-going but was socially awkward around women. The shyness though had its own appeal. Lewis once asked him, "What's the psychology behind your bizarre tongue-tied reaction when girls are around?"

For once, the genius was stumped. He shrugged his shoulder and said, "I don't know. Maybe I need more practice." His friend laughed his head off, "You need to move out of your parents' house. That's how you'll get some practice."

It wasn't much fun. For one thing they couldn't stand still and be casual observers. The minute they stopped, a bevy of girls would home in on them. So they walked and walked and walked until their feet hurt.

"Nothing too exciting," Spike said. Lewis looked at him and said, "Like you didn't know what to expect? We've been here and done this so many times before." With the exception of a few scrapes here and there with bad mouthed youths, all they had done thus far was speak to people who had too much to drink and making sure they didn't drive drunk.

Lewis observed though that his friend was very quiet, it was unusual for him to be so especially when there were a lot of silly comments to be made like, "Look at that silly bugger" or "Geez, she's missing a skirt."

"Hey, what's on your mind?"

"Huh?" Spike replied.

"I said, what's on your mind?"

"Oh, I was just thinking. Sgt Fitzhaven, do you think he thought he'd become a wife abuser? I mean, was it something he worried about? Do you think our job would make it hard for us to be good husbands?"

Lewis sighed, "Nothing to do with our job, buddy. All to do with the heart. I don't think you have it in you to hurt a woman. As for me, I'd kill myself first before I hurt the woman I marry. My Dad never lifted a hand on my Mom. Neither has yours. Not in our DNA, buddy."

Spike smiled, craters forming on his cheeks, "Yeah, not in our DNA."

They carried on walking until it was time to haul a drunken woman's ass to a paddy wagon for abusing pedestrians.

It was all in a day's work. And night... under the full moon!


	7. He Knew His Brother Even Better Now

**He Knows His Brother Even Better Now**

The "hot call" blared out of the surround sound system in HQ. The location of the critical incidence was unusual because it was in the high-end suburb, very few incidences occurred there and most importantly, it involved a high profile lawyer.

There was never any time to waste, the drive over was used to gain information about the family. By the time they arrived at the scene they were well aware that the house-helper said the eldest Strachan son, RJ was armed and had threatened to shot his father, Rollie Strachan Sr. They already knew who they were going to have to deal with – an emotionally fragile teenager with no criminal record.

When they arrived at the scene, Team Leader Ed Lane discovered quickly he had a tutorial on his hand. A first responder rookie cop had arrived ahead of them with sirens and lights flashing, Ed accosted the young officer, _"Here's today's lesson: armed and barricaded subjects tend to get freaked out by sirens and flashing lights. Get me?"_

_"I will turn the lights off."_

_"Alright,"_ Ed wasn't done giving instruction - clearly the rookie cop didn't get it, _"Move your car."_

_ "I'll move my car," _came the swift reply, at least Ed Lane knew the rookie cop won't be forgetting today's lesson any time soon.

As they gathered round to discuss tactics and strategy, a single gun fire went off, prompting the team to mobilise and use standard entry techniques. The door was heavily reinforced, it took several tries with the battering ram to breach the door by which time the subject has had the chance to get upstairs and down the window behind the house.

Sam Braddock was there, anticipating RJ Strachan's escape route. But a teenager had the element of surprise on his side, he was a chemistry buff and threw at Sam a home-made smoke grenade. The Team heard Sam report in, _"He's in the woods, he's in the woods."_

With the subject now on the loose, the Team had to divide up to conquer. Sgt Greg Parker stayed at the family home to make sense of the what and why it happened. Braddock stayed to interview young Simon in the presence of his mother. Parker spoke to the father briefly before he was taken to the hospital. But it was Strachan Sr's last word to Simon that was very telling, "_Remember who you are._" Parker observed the tell-tale stiffening of the facial muscles in Simon and sensed fear in the young man.

With the father gone, Sam went into details of how the shooting happened, the former turned elite police officer knew he was being lied to. He pointed out the discrepancies in Simon's story and said, _"Let's_ _try that again shall we?"_

The Boss called Dr Luria, police psychologist, for help. They needed to get to the bottom of RJ's problem, that was the key to getting this matter resolved peacefully. Dr Luria offered to drive over to RJ's military school for boys to find out why the young man was asked to leave the school.

The rest of the team deployed into the woods, headed by the Team Leader, _"Ok, diamond formation,"_ he instructed. The search team included Lewis' best mate, Team Techie Spike Scarlatti, whose time was mainly spent inside the Command Truck. They moved in formation until the search area got more dense and wider, _"Ok, we do this in quadrants,_" ordered the Team Leader. Spike and Lewis were assigned together.

Wordy drove the SVU armed with sophisticated heat seeking devise to let them where there may be living, breathing humans around. Ed and First Officer Constable Jules Callaghan stayed close together.

Lou noticed Spike was off his game, and that was putting it kindly. He was jittery, nervous, looking this way and that as if a deer caught in a headlight. Unable to contain his curiosity anymore, he asked Scarlatti, "_What's your problem?_"

"_Woods. My people don't like 'em."_

Lewis was highly puzzled and confused, _"Your people? From Woodbridge?"_

The answer came quickly, _"No Romans. Three times we fought in the forest against the Huns, didn't go so good." _ Lou would have laughed out loud where it not for the fact they were in pursuit of an armed young man.

He watched Spike through his peripheral vision, and saw him with new understanding. For one thing, he knew now why the guy won't go bush walking, hiking and mountaineering with him. They would do all sorts of activities. Double dating, going to the movies, skating, eating out, rapelling building, climbing rock walls, but not the great outdoors. The bloke, he realised, didn't even own a pair of hiking boots for crying out loud!

In the meantime, Sam had connected with Simon. There was something about the teenager that touched a nerve inside him, Parker sensed the bond and encouraged the blonde officer to continue to work the truth out of Simon.

Dr Luria reported back her findings to Sgt Parker who relayed it to his Team, _"According to the Doctor, the kid didn't just attack the cadet leader. He attacked the cadet leader after he saw him grab another kids. Abused kids lash out. This looks like a kid who got used to lashing out to protect someone else, like a baby brother."_

It was all making sense now, but they were still a long, long way from finding out where RJ was hiding and a very long way from reuniting him with his family in one piece. The seek-seeking devise had found many people, all of them either fleeing or ignorant bushwalkers. They needed Simon to tell them where his brother hides out, but it was proving difficult to crack the bond of loyalty, love and devotion between the two brothers. Sam had to work hard to earn Simon's trust. In the end he would get through to the young man but not before more damage was done.

Suddenly, over their earphones, they heard Spike call out, _"Whoa, I'm hit! I'm hit." _Lou who was ahead of him, turned around and rushed back over, he shouted over the Comm Link, _"Officer down! Officer down! Quad 4-C! Officer down! Officer down!"_

Spike initially tired to roll over, but with presence of mind saw that the dry tinder of grass caught fire next to him. He would create an inferno if he rolled, his only chance was for Lou to do something about it quickly and he did! Beating the fire down with his bare hands.

They were treated at the scene, by this time, the Fearless Leader Ed Lane had gone ballistic, "_I got a man down and I could care less about this kid's psychodrama. This game is over now_." Sgt Parker calmly said, _"I don't want you rushing back in angry, Ed._"

The Team leader responded, _"It's a little late for that, Boss."_ But Greg knew Ed didn't mean that or he would have stood him down. Later when the drama ended, it was he, Lane, Father of a teenager himself who confronted the high profile lawyer. He stood in front of the door barricading him from entering his own house. Ed Lane had no sympathy to wife abusers and kid bashers.

Spike and Lou were driven off, in the jeep, Spike continued to prattle on, _"Ammonium trilodide. Homemade explosive of every anarchist, jackass and torublemaker. Kid hits me with ammonium trilodide. Unbelievable._"

Still feeling bad about it Lou apologised yet again, _"I'm sorry man, I should have seen him. I'm sorry._

Spike knew there was **NO** way Lou could have seen RJ, not unless he had eyes on the back of his head, so he said, _"Bro, seriously, shut up."_ It made Lou laughed, but Officer Scarlatti wasn't finished. He had to drive the point home, _"But I will say this one last time – Romans and woods, all I'm saying."_

They would both learn at HQ that it ended well. Months later they would hear Simon had gone to the University of his choosing and that RJ was getting treatment for his emotional and drug problems and that he was doing very well.

In the meatime, as they all headed back home, Lou helped his friend carry his holdall home. That's what friends were for.


	8. So You See What I See

**So You See What I See**

Life went on from one "hot call" to another until the next scheduled two-day break from Team One. Changing into their civvies at end of shift were the young constables, Lewis tapped Spike's ankle with his foot, "Hey bro, come hiking with me tomorrow."

"You're joking right," the Techie replied, his face a picture of incredulity. "You've just found out months ago I hate the woods and here you are inviting me along to join you in an expedition." Lou couldn't help but smile at the exaggeration, "Expedition" he repeated. Unless he's called into action, the Techie was so laid back most of the time, he's almost horizontal. Walking from his computer console to his own backyard was by definition an expedition in Spike's vocabulary.

Lewis flicked Spike with a rolled up towel, the weaponised fabric hitting the Italian in the arm, "Wuzz, chicken," said Lewis.

"Who ya callin wuzz, non-lethal commando?" retorted Spike.

"Chicken," Lou followed this up with clucking noises. Spike jumped the bench and made a grab for Lou who ducked down quickly. Standing behind him was Wordy quietly minding his own business, Spike missed Lou but not Wordy. The gentle giant was tackled against the locker, "What the hell..." the senior SRU man exclaimed, "Cool it, boys."

Spike backed off quickly and apologised profusely to Wordsworth, "Sorry, Wordy." Momentarily, Ed Lane came in to reprimand Spike and Lou for making so much commotion. "Sorry," they both said, standing at attention. Lane gave them both the eye, Wordy chuckled merrily.

"What was that about?" Sam Braddock inquired. He came in wrapped in a towel, fresh from a hot shower.

"I'm just asking Spike here," Lewis gripped his friend tightly in the arm, giving him a gentle shake, "to come hiking with me tomorrow."

Sam smiled, "And he refused, of course. He's a wuzz, that's why."

With both Lou and Sam on his case now, the Italian was getting increasingly miffed; not to mention, embarrassed by all the attention. The whole team, including Jules who had freely invaded the men's domain, had now gathered round him, watching and waiting with bated breath whether he'd be up for the challenge.

"Ok, my money is on Spike to get back in one piece," said the Boss.

Ed Lane grinned cheekily, "Over Lou's shoulder... in a fireman's lift." They all had a laugh... even Spike.

"We need photographic evidence," piped up Jules who was Lou's favorite rapelling partner in practice, but in action they could do it with anyone in the Team.

Sgt Troy peeped in "You guys still here? It's getting crowded don't you think?" His Team not far behind entered all looking dishevelled.

"We're vacating the premises now," Lane replied. Team One grabbed their gear and left the locker room for Team Four to occupy. "It's all yours, lads."

"Where do we meet up?" Spike asked Lou on the way down to the carpark. "I'll pick you up at 7am, ya cool with that?"

"Non c'e problema," Spike replied in Italian.

Lou smiled, "And gear up for an overnighter." Spike's face fell, "Overnight?!" he said his soft brown eyes growing like saucers. "Overnight?!" he said again. The Jamaican extract laughed his head off. It wasn't going to be an overnighter he just enjoyed playing simple pranks on his friend.

They went their own way, Lou to enjoy his solitude and Spike to face his father's increasingly distant relationship with him. They used to be so close. So tight. It was his Dad who taught him to ride a bike, who made him play soccer with the neigbourhood kids when all he wanted was to bury his nose in books, who encouraged his love of chemistry though he feared his son's precocious abilities with chemical elements and later mixing compounds.

He stopped at the driveway and thanked God silently for a two-day away from home, not withstanding the sort of activity lined up for him by his best buddy. It would be a chance to get away from the ever saddening environment at home.

His Dad didn't want him to be a Police Officer, just never liked the idea. Dom Scarlatti didn't mind it as first when he was just a Patrol Cop. He didn't mind it when he was desk-bound at the Precinct. It came to a head when he joined the elite Police Unit. But as much as there was anger about his decision to join SRU, his father though not supportive wasn't antagonistic; that would come much, much later.

He entered the house, Mom S sparked upon seeing him, "Mikey," she said. She's never gotten used to calling him Spike, it was a name made up for him by other people, to her he was Mike or Mikey. He went over to give her a warm hug and to check out what she was cooking. "Where's Pa?" he asked.

"Outside feeding the birds." He went in search of his Father and found him standing on the porch feeding native birds, Spike affectionately gave the older man a hug across the chest from behind, "_Come stai, Pa_?"

Dom Scarlatti felt genuine affection oozed from his offspring and that made him fear all the more for his son. It had been a constant worry for him. He had decided early on that he couldn't go on living if something happened to his son. And what would happen to his wife once he's gone and their only son was living his Rambo existence?

He smiled back at Spike and invited him to sit down with him on the bench. They didn't talk about work, their conversations these days were limited to international football, specifically Serie A, and sometimes his adopted country's national sport, hockey. And the other favorite topic was who he was dating. They chatted casually, both he and his Dad missing; but sadly not admitting to each other; the former depth and breadth of their relationship. They used to be able to talk about everything under the sun. Their non-conversation ended when Mom S called out, "Dinner's ready."

Lou went home to find out that his parents had dropped by. In the fridge was a box of home-cooked Jamaican curry chicken, a casserole of pepper pot soup and boiled rice. And a jug of coconut juice.

He flipped his phone open and quickly dialled a number, "Hey Mom, when did you get here?"

"Your Dad and I just wanted to do a day-trip in the City. We've been missing Toronto." The intended short conversation went on for 15 minutes, then he said, "Put Dad on speaker." Father and son bantered on.

Then Dad Y asked, "So what are you doin tomorrow?" when Lou mentioned his two-day break.

"I'm hiking... with Spike."

"Ok, you and your buddy take care ok?" They ended the call with smiles on their faces.

The next morning, at 7am sharp, Lou was at the Scarlatti residence. Mom S opened the door and laid out the red carpet for her other son, "_Buon giorno_," Lou greeted her with kisses on both cheeks. "_Buenvenuto_," she replied pulling him in by the hand.

"Spike and I are hiking today," he said.

"Yes, he told me, he's coming up soon."

Lou could smell something very nice. Freshly brewed coffee. And Mom S was in the kitchen cooking up a storm at 7 in the morning. He heard shuffling, he turned around to see Spike all ready but still not eager to go. They both heard Mom S say, "Sit down, have breakfast first." It didn't sound like an invitation to breakfast, it sounded more like a command, an order. _Sit, eat or else._

The two tucked in delighted to be fuelling up before heading off to hike, "So where are we goin?," Spike asked in between gulps of steamy coffee.

"Shorthills Provincial Park."

"Why Shorthills," the Techie inquired. Lou looked down and smiled at his food, his friend would literally fall ill if he couldn't ask why. _Why this? Why that?_

"Is it possible," Lou said, "that I just happened to like it?"

"Why?" Spike asked innocently. Lou stared at his friend and decided he _genuinely, really,_ wanted to know.

"Here's why," the Jamaican explained to the Italian, "Short Hills Provincial Park is the largest park in the Niagara Region. Part of an environmentally significant area known as the Fonthill Kame Moraine."

Lou continued to explain with hand gestures using the bread knife was a baton as if conducting an orchestra. "A kame is an irregular hill of sand, gravel and silt which accumulates in a depression on a retreating glacier, and is then deposited on the land surface as the glacier melts. If you look southwest on a clear day from open sections along Cataract Road... remind me to show you when we get there, you can see the highest point of the Fonthill Kame rising above the landscape, about 5 or 6 kilometers distant."

"So, why is it called Shorthills?"

"The 'short hills' throughout the park are the result of erosional forces of glacial meltwater and other runoff, which carved out the many steep valleys and also created the valley of the Twelve Mile Creek more than twelve thousand years ago." Then Spike smilingly realised that this was Lou's longest ever speech.

"There are seven trails designated, we are going to do trails 4, 5 and 6."

"Why?"

"Seriously bro?" Lou asked.

"Seriously," he said. "Why not trails 1, 2 and 3? Or 7?

Lou sighed and prayed to Almighty God for patience. "Ok, cause bikers and horseback riders are not allowed access to trails 4, 5 and 6. Hikers only." Spike nodded.

After an hour of stuffing themselves, they made a move but not before Mom S handed Spike a basket, "For lunch," she said. They both laughed.

The drive over was fun because Lou was on the driver seat. They arrived just before noon and left the food basket in the back seat, they'll have it just before heading home. Lou shouldered his backpack and so did Spike.

The main stream which runs through the section of the trail they were on forms a tributary of the Twelve Mile Creek and winds its way through the valley. Wildflowers abounded along the trail. It was the time when spring and summer seasons were at logger heads. Just at cusp of the changing seasons so Blue Cohosh, Bloodroot, and Jack-in-the-pulpit were still in bloom. But they were also treated with a summery display of Brown-Eyed Susans, Elecampane and Queen Anne's Lace.

Spike was a keen photographer, using the latest phone gadget he took shots after shots of wild flora and fauna. Lou marvelled at the freshness in which his buddy was "seeing" nature; in a way he had become blasé because for him nature was just always there. This was his sanctuary, his world. To relax, he climbed mountains. To challenge himself, he rock climbed. Communing and visiting with nature - this was what he loved the most. Hopefully, it was this same intense love of nature that he could pass on to his friend.

They soon reached the Hemlock Trail (#5) so named for the rare hemlock stand found in this section of the park. The Terrace Creek Trail (#6) led them to Cataract Woods and the Terrace Creek Falls. This was the highlight.

They heard water before they saw the falls, Spike's jaw dropped, "Wow." Lou sat on the ground, removed his shoes and socks and waded into the clear water. Spike did the same. This time, the Italian didn't need any encouragement to explore. It was a new world, a world he didn't much care about. He knew it was there – he knew it was a world of wonder. He watched enough documentaries to know. But today, it wasn't just about the knowing. It was the feeling, the touching, the smelling, the connecting.

When he satiated himself with the views and the ambience, he sat down next to Lou. "It's amazing, isn't it? Thanks for insisting I come."

Lou simply said, "I just wanted you to see what I see." It would have a profound impact in Spike's life.

.


	9. Saving Michael Jameson

**Saving Michael Jameson**

Sgt Greg Parker had the enviable duty of telling Fearless Leader Ed Land he was being sued. The news, of course, didn't go well as expected. Lane was livid. The prospect of defending this action when he knew it was justifiable tore his insides out. The civil suit was mounted by the son of a man he killed on active duty. Goran Tomasic fatally shot his estranged wife and took another woman hostage in the Toronto central business district. Negotiation for his surrender didn't progress well, the hostage-taker being in such a state of rage, aggravated by the fact the Police could not get hold of an interpreter to be present at the scene.

Petar Tomasic, the son, maintained that the SRU did not give his father enough chance to surrender although it had been a textbook operation. The charge was excessive use of force or something of a similar nature. The Boss expressly told Ed no one doubted it was the right call, the Fearless Leader's eyes flashed and bored into the Sargent's "_Well, somebody does._"

Despite his huffing and puffing, Ed knew it had to be done. Accompanied by his lawyer Frank McAndrew he went to Court expecting the matter to be dealt with within a couple of hours. McAndrew told him to tell the same story he told SIU, the police internal investigative unit, "_Then leave me to do my magic._" That was the plan, but it didn't work out quite that way.

First Officer Constable Ed Lane had barely recounted his story when a security guard entered the room and told them to stay put. His instincts kicked in and despite the fact he was there to give his deposition, and inserted himself in the middle of the situation. Upon presenting his badge and stating his credentials, security briefed him about the armed parolee's ankle bracelet, "An ex con?" he affirmed grimly. The Take-Charge-Man gave commands then himself initiated the search for the armed man. The two of them would meet face-to-face on the stairs.

"_I want Dan cheznik_," the young man said, a gun aimed at a petrified young woman's head. Lane assessed the information quickly, "_Ok, let me call my Boss_." He phoned Sgt Parker who by then had arrived at the scene with Team One, in a coded exchange of words, Lane managed to tell his Boss he was himself a hostage; and no, he didn't have his gun with him.

The Boss relayed the message to Team One but gave them all an assurance, "_Ok, he's charming, he's good looking, Ed's going to be fine_."

Swiftly, Sgt Parker assigned them to their tasks. Constables Scarlatti and Young were Alpha Team, the non-lethal option; Braddock and Wordsworth were Bravo Team, lethal. Constable Jules Callaghan stayed as the Boss' second. Sharp and street smart, she was going to be crucial in uncovering why a young man with somewhat of a future ahead of him, who had just been granted parole would risk everything to speak to the Prosecutor who put him away, Dan Cheznik.

The more they uncovered disturbing truths about the young man's prosecution, the more they wanted the outcome to be non-lethal. Ed Lane had especially bonded with the young man whose eyes spoke volumes of hurt and pain and anguish. They tried every trick in the book to stall for time until they couldn't anymore. Options had simply run out and the young man's patience had also run dry, in a passionate cry for help, he told Ed, "_You don't get it, do you? I have nothing left. I'm not afraid to use this. I will kill you both lying here. I don't care anymore!_"

It was a declaration of desperation, "_I don't care anymore!_"

The only option left was to contain the young man in a room except it meant Ed and the young woman remained hostaged to someone who was increasingly desperate. But at least it was a better option than a gunman running amok and shooting everyone within eyesight, so they tricked him into believing Dan Cheznik was in one of the rooms. This done, Spike and Lou had to find a way in via the roof to gain entry where the gunman and the hostages had been sequestered. They had to be quick, the Boss knew this was time critical. Bravo Team had found a direct line of sight from another part of the building but with limited joy, the room had frosted glass. Acting Team Leader had to educate Sniper Sam about the SRU policy of not firing a weapon using only thermal imaging, "_We need to see the guy for real._"

Wordy was appointed Team Leader for this critical incident because he had he longest experience in elite policing but he still couldn't set aside the fact that his best friend was inside that room with a gunman, and it was now down to Spike and Lou. He counted his breaths, almost in tandem with Sam. For Wordy, it was as much to calm his spirit as to steady his heart rate.

Jules tracked down the young man's lawyer who confirmed reports were missing from the files. The record on how the supposed confession was obtained was missing, allegedly misplaced. Therefore an appeal was not possible. She and the Boss were by this stage convinced there was something hinky about how this young guy was prosecuted for the rape and murder of Katie Baker and also convinced that Dan Cheznik had a lot to answer for.

Eventually, they tracked down the Prosecutor and asked him why the young man was after him, he simply said he didn't remember, "_Try harder_", encouraged Jules with subdued menace. The Boss made a comment to Cheznik, "_Eleven years in the joint, this guy still sounds like apple pie," _the legal eagle dismissed this as manipulative behavior.

Enraged he had been lied to the young man threatened to kill his hostages, Ed who had established a connection reasoned with him, "_You have got to forget about Cheznik. Ok, and confronting him at gunpoint is not gonna convince anyone of anything. If you're innocent, put the gun down. A gun never solved anything, believe me. The police are probably out there right now with a sniper and I know how they work. So I'm asking you... I am begging you. I am begging you, just put the gun down_."

His eyes grew very sad. Perhaps he thought he had reached the point of no return, perhaps he just needed someone to listen and here they were, two hostages with nowhere to go, so the young man told his story. Tears brimming, his voice breaking, he told them how they put him away when he was 15, tried him as an adult for the rape and murder of his best friend. He told them how kind she was to him when no one else was. He said he promised Katie when he went to her grave for the first time that he would clear his name because until that happens no one would be looking for the person who did this to her.

"_Not for me_," he said, "_for Katie_."

Having now said his piece, he escalated again, Sgt Parker hollered, "_Spike, he's escalating. Where are you_?" The Techie whispered, "_Fifteen seconds away_." In a rare moment of utter, utter frustration, the Boss kicked a chair and said, "_That's not good enough. Now! I need you now! I need you there now."_

Bravo Team offered to take the shot but the Boss was adamant, _"No, I don't want to go lethal! I don't want to go lethal. Alpha team, I'm watching you. Are you set?_" He was never more sure in his life that this young man had been dealt the rawest of deal, and God help him, he would not be instrumental in ending his life.

The saga would come shortly to an end, at least that was the plan. Spike and Lou got to the balcony of the courtroom, jumped down in tandem, with exploding smoke bombs managed to get Ed Lane and the young woman to safety but not the young man from self-harm. When the smoke cleared, they were confronted by a sight of a broken man, a gun aimed at his temple asking for a tape recorder to leave his last message to the world. It was another one of those experiences that would permanently bond Spike and Lou to each other.

They didn't want to go lethal. At least Lou had the knowledge that he had rubber bullets in his gun - it would be up to him now. He knew the chances of the gun being discharged by accident or the possibility of the finger pulling the trigger.

There had been people he would have been delighted to scrub off the earth. People who really didn't have a place in society. He had admitted to himself that killing wasn't something he'd like to do but he could... **yes**... he would regardlesss of what anyone thought. He could kill if that was what it took to keep the peace, _But this young man? _His mind racing, _He's younger than me,_ and the words he said, _"I had never even kissed a girl,_" reverberated in his brain.

Spike's brain was racing too. He was thankful for the helmet because no one could see how wide his eyes had become when the smoke cleared. Finding the young man with a gun to this head, that was a fail. A massive, massive fail. They were meant to rescue the hostages and disarm him in the process, but now...here they were. He was desperate to die and they were desperate to keep him alive. There could not have been a wider chasm between two agendas.

The Italian controlled his breathing, his brain processing the information, he had come to a decision, if it came to it he would shot him in the elbow. The young man would become an amputee but he would be alive and they would be alive. With the young man's arm steady and firm, cocked at the elbow, and up-close, he had a greater than 99% chance of blowing the guy's firing arm off and saving him. And just because he was Michaelangelo Scarlatti it even crossed his mind that it was 100% but the number of perfection couldn't be achieved or it would not be perfection anymore.

There was also one thing they were both sure of at that moment, they had both decided that if this guy died in their hands it would be all over for them. No one else in the Team could feel the way they felt that day or thought their thoughts. Later in the evening, when the dusk had covered the City, they would drink to it and talk about it. They could listen to jazz music to unwind and to reflect on their day. There were moments like these that only the two of them shared intimately like they could read each other's mind.

The young man did survive his ordeal became Ed Lane cared, the Team cared. Everyone who mattered at that moment cared. Ed summed up the day at the conclusion of their operation, "_No one died today."_

But he did so much more than that, he asked the young man whose life he was instrumental in saving, "_You didn't tell me your name."_

"_Michael Jameson,_" he replied. For once, in the eyes of a lawman he was no longer a series of numbers – he was no longer a file number or a prisoner number – he has name. This lawman will never forget that name.


	10. On the Ledge with Jules

**On the Ledge with Jules**

Rapelling practice was over, Lewis and Jules sat on the ledge, their legs dangling over the side of the building. A familiar place to them as neither had any fear of heights. "Don't do this at home, folks." Sgt Parker mumbled to himself when he spied them up there. The Boss didn't rouse on them, the two constables would have factored in wind velocity and safety. But just to be sure, he dialled Jules number and asked, "Are you two hooked up?"

Jules laughed and said, "What do you think?"

"Don't matter what I think... it's what I wanna know. Are you two hooked up?" This time his inflection had gone up a notch, the tiny dynamo noticed. Parker looked up at them with concern, they smiled back at him and waved. "Yes, Boss we are."

"Good, don't take too long."

"Boss, you're forgetting something."

"What's that?"

"It's end of shift... we can stay here as long as we want."

"Cheeky bugger," the Boss hanged up and saluted them from below.

They were back to their own world. It was starting to get dark but neither made a move to go. Finally the silence was broken when Lewis placed an arm around her shoulder and said, "You did good getting Penny and Lily to safety. I wasn't breathing the whole time you were negotiating. You're so amazing."

Jules reflected back to it, to that critical incident a week ago. Penny was kidnapped from her own backyard when she was 10 by Gerald Duglin, a pedophile. During her eight years of captivity, she was never allowed to see the outside world, not even from out a window. An electronic anklet that received electric shock when she came too close to any windows and doors made sure of it. She was permitted to read only one book and that was _Paradise Lost_. She learned to accommodate the needs of her master, lover and captor.

During the tense negotiation, Sgt Greg Parker spoke words of wisdom into Jules' ears, "_Penny's got a belief system that has helped her survive whatever it is she survived. And it's not your job to tear that down. It's your job to get these two girls out of there safely."_

But even in captivity time passed by and she was no longer a child at 18. No longer able to satisfy the inner yearning of a diseased mind for young girls. Gerald Duglin needed another girl to look after his needs, and that's when he kidnapped Lily.

When SRU surrounded the house, Gerald Duglin bailed out on Penny and Lily to fend for themselves. Penny, suffering from a serious case of Stockholm Syndrome, armed herself with a gun, barricaded herself in her room with Lily to protect her from the Police. Gerald had programmed her to fear them.

Jules negotiated, Constables Sam Braddock and Spike Scarlatti protected her. Though she started out hesitant and unsure, as negotiation progressed she became so invested in bringing Penny and Lily to safety that she kept breaching the safety perimeter. At one point, Sam elbowed her back. And if he could, the handsome Constable would have yelled at her, "Stay back!" He was concerned for Jules. Concerned for the woman he secretly loved.

Spike covered them both from the right side of the room, he too was concerned and not just for Jules but for Penny. He decided if it came to it, he hoped he'd be able to fire first because if Sam got to Penny first, she'd be lying in a pool of blood seriously dead.

If the order came for "Scorpio" Sam wouldn't hesitate. He was a soldier. And he wasn't just any soldier, he was a Commando. Able to zero in on the task at hand and compartmentalise himself, that's how a soldier survived the theatre of war, that's how a Commando survived a "kill" order.

Scarlatti's brain was calculating the whole time, he would fire at her right shoulder to disable the trigger finger of the right hand. She'd be in a pool of blood but, if he bull's eye, she'd be alive. This time he determined if a "Scorpio" order was given, he'd volunteer.

But regardless of how the two male Constables read the situation Jules was only concerned for Penny and Lily, not for herself, she kept saying to them, "_She won't do it. She won't._"

Penny aimed her rifle at them, she felt besieged, confused, "_Where's Gerald? What have to done to him_?" She decided that if they had done something to Gerlad, then she wouldn't, couldn't, let them do the same to Lily.

Jules saw a break, "_Penny, we're not going to take Lily anywhere unless she chooses to go_."

Penny in her brokenness replied, "_There's no choice. That's what the book says._" Jules was slightly confused but Sam whispered to her, "_Paradise Lost._"

"_O__k, I didn't read that book, Penny, but this is what I know about choice. Okay? Gerald made a choice today. He chose to leave you. And Lily - Lily's making a choice. She wants to see her mom and dad. And you made an amazing choice, the most amazing choice, because you just met this little girl and you're protecting her and not everybody would do that. Penny, please, let her choose_."

After a very tensed Mexican stand-off with Lily caught in the middle, Penny eventually let her chose to go. And later, she too would chose to leave the prison where she had been held for eight long years.

Gerald didn't get away scot free, not when Constables Ed Lane and Kevin Wordsworth were in hot pursuit, dodging bullets as they tailed the monster through a labyrinthine tunnel. In the end, he chose to end his own life than be taken prisoner as he was cornered.

Jules leaned in on Lou's shoulder, strong and muscular. She said, "Thanks. It was one hell of a job. From moment to moment, I wasn't sure if it was gonna be ok, that was the scariest part of it. One wrong word and it's all over."

Lewis didn't say anything, he just waited for Jules to speak her mind. He knew his place, He's a friend, not a therapist. She continued, "You know what, Lou. After the adrenaline died down, and I was all alone, things started to play on my mind... thank God it ended well but what if... with this job, Lou even when the outcome was good, you still question yourself."

"That's what makes you so good at it, you never take anything for granted."

Jules sat up, she twisted slightly around to look at Lewis' profile, "Thanks."

Lou turned to her too, he said, "And Tasha? How's she?"

Jules exhaled, "She's doing great. She's moved in with her friend. She's back in school, a different one this time. She was in theraphy for six months but she's doing very well now."

"That girl reminds me of you," Lou said. "She's a fighter. A survivor. She'll be right."

Jules reflected back to some six months ago, a beautiful girl in the ugliest of circumstances fought with the currents every single day until a group of vengeful, misguided gang of girls tried to kill her. Wounded, desperate, she determined that she'd had enough. She got up to the top of a shopping mall and was going to jump off but Jules wasn't going to let that happen.

She pleaded with Tasha, "_Ok, actually, Tasha... Look at me! Look at me! I do understand. Actually, I do. I do, and that's why I'm standing right here. That's why I'm here. Ok? And I want you to take my hand and I want to help you over. And you are gonna get through this. It might feel impossible, but you have the rest of your life, okay? And it's gonna be tough, but it's also gonna be really, really amazing. If you get through this, you can get through anything. I promise_."

Tasha was on her way back to her when she slipped off the ledge, quick-thinking Jules jumped off and just caught her mid-air. They dangled on a rope until the men could haul them up. It was a catch of a life-time.

Lou patted her hand, "Glad I had a part to play," he said. Jules gave him a quizzical face, "Practice makes perfect, that's what we do right?"

She nodded, "Practice makes perfect."

Lou got up first, hauled her up and unhooked her. "You're amazing," he repeated. "And so are you," she said. She looked at the young man who had started to busy himself packing their gears. _So unassuming_, she thought, _but you've marked my life in more ways than one_.


	11. At Odds

**At Odds**

It was a very messy operation but what mattered most was they saved the hostage, period. They were all quiet on the way back to SRU HQ each to their own thoughts. Assessing, evaluating, criticising. This was what made them a cut above anyone else. Their ability to set aside their personal feelings and go at it hammer and thong.

It was debrief time, the critical incidence involved two women. A distraught wife who had been betrayed and bereft by her inability to have children; and, the other with child and who had an intimate relationship with the former's husband. The baby might even be his.

By the time SRU arrived at the scene, the incidence had already escalated to hostage taking with a knife, as Fearless Leader Ed Lane summed it up it was just as deadly as a gun, "_It never sticks, never jams, never run out of ammo, and you don't need training to know how to use it._"

The Team didn't know what prompted the sudden change but as they gathered around to receive tactical instruction, the Sargent said he was going to be in charge of tactics and Ed Lane in charge of negotiation. They all wondered why but in the field they followed orders, not question them.

It was a long story but it ended well in that no one died though the hostage taker herself was wounded, the knife penetrating her mid-section.

The ride home was thick with tension. The discussion at debrief would be robust, no-hold bar, go for it with all participants putting their two bits in. They gathered around the table. The tiny dynamo Jules Callaghan was extrovertly upset about the outcome. She was insistent she could see it was time to take action and she firmly believed that had they, Sam, listened to her it would have been a different outcome.

"_We can't second-guess whether an earlier tactical response might have had a different outcome_," Sgt Parker said calmly but inside he too was feeling the heat.

Long-serving Constable Kevin Wordsworth said, "_Due respect, sir, but it came down to talk or tactics, and you're the one that called talk._" The Sargent didn't deny it, humbled with his head slightly bowed, he said, "_That's right_."

Wordy wasn't done, "_Because maybe that's the call a negotiator would make_."

Spike Scarlatti, the normally laid-back member of the team, reacted strongly in defense of his Boss, "_Whoa! Whoa!_" He didn't like it one little bit, the Italian was ready for a fight. Wordy noticed the increase in room temperature, he diplomatically explained, "_Look, I'm just saying all right? I want to know what Ed would have done_."

Spike wasn't placated, "_It's the Sarge's call!_" he insisted. It didn't help Spike's disposition when Lou joined in the verbal fray, "_I want to know, too._"

Surprisingly, it was Ed who had the cool head and admonished everyone, "_Sometimes, you do everything right. Things still go wrong. That's the job. Situation was gray, the Boss made a black and white call. We saved the hostage, period_." This was where they ended the briefing. And they would all be better off for it to remember what Ed said, "_You can do everything right and things could still go wrong_."

Spike and Lou had planned to go out for a drink at the Goose that night so they showered, changed and headed off to the watering hole. They found a table away from the crowd. With drinks on hand they slouched on their seats to enjoy a couple of rounds.

"Seriously, bro," Spike opened up, "You want to know what Ed would have done?"

"So, what's wrong with that?"

"_It's the Sarge call!_" The Italian was still defensive, it was an affront to him that anyone, even Lou, would question the Boss' decision. The Italian hero-worshiped Greg Parker like no one in the Team and the Jamaican understood the dynamics more than anyone else in the team.

"You're upset because you think we're questioning the Boss' decision? That's what debriefs are for. If there's was one angle we didn't like or we thought we could have done better, we discuss it. It wasn't personal Spike. Don't make it personal."

Spike was quiet, of course Lou was right. He looked at his friend from the bottom of his glass and felt annoyed again. Between the two of them, it was always Lewis who handled things with maturity and even-handedness. On the other hand, he could be impulsive, petulant even. Lou had the ability to see through the bullshit; and to call him on it. Their friendship, upon reflection, had survived many verbal skirmishes and differences in opinions. There were many things they didn't like about each other but what they liked about each other far out-weighed the negatives.

He heard Lou say, "You get the second round."

Spike got up and paid for the second round, then he stopped, realised he paid for the first, too. The street savvy Lewis Young, who grew up in the ghetto, quiet as a mouse, got one over him, again.

And he was supposed to be the smart one!


	12. Grass and Hay among Other Things

**Grass and Hay among Other things**

SRU Team One had a lot of very though calls. Among them the incidence involving a retired SRU Sargent who unbeknown to Spike and Lou was having a monumental emotional and psychological breakdown at the SRU HQ as they busied themselves detonating a suitcase bomb in the middle of the City.

The day started out relaxed with the exception of the air conditioning unit experiencing troubled breathing and finally conking out altogether. In response to Spike's and others moaning about the heat, the Boss proposed a change in their normal routine, _"Okay, we're going to hit the briefing room and then we're going to patrol in air-conditioned comfort."_

But then they had the pleasure of a surprise visit from Danny Rangford, SRU legend. Everyone was delighted. Ed Lane certainly was for Danny was his mentor. This was the man who taught him everything he knew about elite policing. Parker was for this was the man whose footsteps he followed. Spike was for he was the baby of the team prior to Danny's retirement.

Rangford beamed at Spike, _"Are you still the rookie?"_

The Italian bounced on his feet and made a grab for Sam, _"No, this is the rookie."_

It was an ordinary day. That was before they received a report of a suspicious package left outside the train station. It was just the sort of calls Spike liked to hear. Lou and the others watched amused as Spike raised his arms up excitedly, _"Babycakes, I'm coming."_ The bomb sniffing and bomb disposal robot got this unfortunate name. "Suspicious package," was all that was required to get the robot out of the basement.

Everyone was clinical and matter-of-fact when they arrived at the Southern Terminal. Evacuate the station. Set up a perimeter. Ask witnesses some questions. Analyse the targeted environment. Coordinate with Civic leaders.

Spike and Lou got Babycakes ready for action while Sargent Parker and Team Leader Ed Lane discussed the psychology of the subject.

Parker_: "Okay, know the subject, anticipate the weapon, target the solution. What kind of person plants a bomb in a public place?"_

Lane: _"Organized personality, not impulsive, not mentally incompetent."_

Parker: _"Emotionally detached, above-average intelligence."_

Lane: _"Access to volatile material and familiar with its use."_

Parker_: "Yeah, and who wants to strike the city's transportation hub."_

Lane: _"Or just doesn't like tourists."_

Spike focused on the job at hand with Lou his side-kick. He loved chemistry and loved to show off his in-depth knowledge on the subject. When he heard witnesses reported smelling freshly cut grass and hay, he requested a wider perimeter and asked for those witnesses to be held for quarantine. _"Phosgene_," he said was highly toxic and advised authorities that by the time a victim had smelled it, the toxin would be in their system.

The chemical compound's formula is COCl2. This colourless gas gained infamy as a chemical weapon during World War I. It has many industrial and pharmaceutical uses. In low concentrations, its odour resembles freshly cut hay or grass. The chemical was named by combining the Greek words 'phos' (meaning light) and genesis (birth), although it does not mean it contains any phosphorus.

They were not an hour into the operation when the rest of the Team peeled off to attend to another emergency leaving Spike, Lou and Jules to deal with the bomb threat. The emergency was at the Barn.

Jules was aware why the Sarge and the Team Leader, along with Wordy and Sam had to go but she kept this to herself. From the Command truck she observed the bomb tech and his side-kick do their thing; and at the same time kept abreast for news of what's unfolding back at the Barn.

As Spike and Lou assessed the suitcase bomb through Babycakes' x-ray vision, the Geek in Spike couldn't help but educate his friend. Lewis expected no less. At any rate, he was the understudy so the more he could absorb from the genius-in-resident, the better. "Phosgene is still regarded as a viable chemical warfare agent because it is so easy to manufacture when compared to the production requirements of more technically advanced chemical weapons such as the first-generation nerve agent tabun."

"Lou, did you know phosgene is an insidious poison as the odour may not be noticed and symptoms may be slow to appear." He asked as his manouvered Babycakes in position.

Lewis smiled, "No, but I do now."

"The odour detection threshold for phosgene is 0.4 ppm. Oh, ppm - that means parts per million. That's four times the threshold limit value. So that's really bad news." Spike made more manual adjustments to Babycakes and continued to lecture. Lewis Young, student extraordinaire, performed more head-nodding. He reminded Jules of a dashboard bobbing head.

"Its high toxicity arises from the action of the phosgene on the proteins in the lungs, the site of gas exchange. Their damage disrupts the blood-air barrier, causing suffocation. It reacts with the amines of the proteins…." Lewis hit the pain threshold.

"Spike…" he said.

The Techie briefly gave him a sideway glance, "Huh?"

"Not interested," Lewis said.

"Oh, was I prattling on?" he asked.

Jules tried to control her snigger_, Better you than me_, she thought to herself. But Spike was not to be denied, "One more important thing to remember," he said, "Sodium bicarbonate may be used to neutralise liquid spills of phosgene. Gaseous spills may be mitigated with ammonia."

"If you say so," was all Lewis could say. They had done all they could to assess it, and now it was time to render it safe. Babycakes fired a detonator charge, the suitcase exploded and out came freshly cut grass and hay and scattered them into the air.

"Grass and hay," said Spike dumb-founded.

They packed up and left the City authorities to deal with the clean-up. On the way back, Jules briefed them of what was happening at the SRU HQ. To say that both men were in disbelief would be an understatement. The real bombshell was at HQ and they missed out but were glad they did!

In the days to come, they would hear snippets, in bits and pieces, they respectfully didn't ask any questions. If they needed to know, they would be told. If they didn't need to know then they didn't need to know.

Sargent Greg Parker was glad that these two didn't have to witness the ugly cost of heroism. They would find out of themselves the true cost in their own time and in their own way.

But while there was yet time, he was glad they could retain their innocence of sort.


	13. Tears and Prayers for a Friend

_Author's note: Spike as a Sacristan was first mentioned in the fan fic story "A Pleasant Surprise," specifically the chapter entitled Crisis of Faith. This fan fic has now exceeded 10,000 hits._

_Maybe tissue alert!_

**Tears and Prayers for a Friend**

Sgt Parker was proven right. It didn't take long for time for innocence to be over. They have seen death, smelt death and touched death. They have all been on the front-line although some more than others. Today, everything happened in slow motion or it felt like it. Sam hollering on the comm link, "_Officer down! Officer down! Medic, come now! Jules has been hit!__"_

Fast forward to the end of the critical incidence: Petar Tomasic laid dead in a pool of blood from the crosshairs of Sam Braddock's Remington when after he shot Constable Jules Callaghan, he managed to take Ed Lane hostage. It was precision work, nothing subjective about it although his heart was beating at 100 miles per minute with the life of his love hanging in the balance. He focused his mind on a singular objective: to save their Team Leader.

Sam forced his mind to zero in on the subject through the scope of his high powered weapon, slowed his breathing, counted to ten, waited for a signal, and fired. It was deadly accurate!

Time flew. The scenes that continued to unfold at times felt as if they happened in fast forward; sometimes it played out in slow motion. They all gathered at the hospital, still in their uniform, waiting with bated breath as surgeons battled to save Jules.

Spike and Lewis huddled together in a corner, giving each other encouragement. "Do you think she's gonna be ok?" the Techie asked.

Lewis gave him a tight smile, "She's a fighter. She's gonna be ok!"

Sgt Parker led by example. He stayed calm. He asked his Team to go home, "Guys, there's nothing you can do here, you've all got families. I'll call you when she gets out of surgery." No one moved instead Wordy and Lane called their spouses to let them what happened and why they might not be coming home tonight. The Boss gave out a sigh_, Welcome to my world_.

Spike called his Mom who was no doubt worrying, the news had hit the airwaves big time and the Scarlatti household would be mourning as if he had died. Lewis, on the other hand, called his Mom to ask for prayers for Jules.

Pacing up and down the hospital corridor was Sam Braddock. Spike nudged Lewis, pointed to the blonde sniper with his chin. The quiet Jamaican calmly got up and approached Sam, whispered something. Sam paused and nodded. Spike didn't know what Lewis said to Sam, next thing he knew his friend was signalling for him to join them. He didn't know where to until they got to the door of the hospital chapel. They went in. Sat down where they felt comfortable. Sam knelt at the front of the altar, no doubt battling in his spirit for Jules. He would wrestle with God if that was what it took.

Spike sat at the back of the chapel, his favourite spot, closest to the exit. He was a man of faith, instilled in him was the Catholic spirituality of his forebears. He went to church as often as time allowed. He said his confessions to the same Parish Priest since he was eight; discussed theology with Sister Rebecca, the principal of his pre-school. But he was also the boy who was kicked out of his Sacristan role in the church. Father James has had enough when once he changed the wine to apple juice because he wanted to know if parishioners would still drink the "Blood of Christ if it was the colour of pee." He was 12.

Lewis sat in the middle. Head bowed, he silently beseeched God on his friend's behalf for Divine Intervention. When he lifted his head up, it was with eyes closed; his palms up and open in expectation of receiving a miracle from God.

Sam battled with God. Lewis pleaded with God. Spike questioned God. But wherever their faith may lie, God met them where they were.

How long they stayed in the chapel pouring out their hearts, they didn't know. Their beeper danced in their pockets, they knew it was time to leave and to gather again at the ICU. The men left the sanctuary of God the recipient of godly peace.

Sgt Parker met them, "Jules is out of surgery, she's gonna be fine."

They all waited until they saw her wheeled out of the surgical theatre and into a room of her own. Sam went in first, tears streaming down his face, saying he was sorry he couldn't protect her. They looked on from the glass partition and saw true love – just how deeply they were yet to know.

The doctors have assured them she was gonna be ok so they all left to join their families. Spike and Lewis though sought solace with each other. "Come home with me?" Spike said.

Lewis knew the battles his friend faced at home so he said, "Sure, just need to duck home to grab some stuff."

They drove in silence. Spike blew out pent-up air from his lungs when they reached his home. Lewis looked at his friend and felt for him. Peace was an unbearable solid block of ice in the Scarlatti's residence. Lewis warmly kissed Momma Scarlatti on the cheek, warmly hugged Dad Scarlatti.

After dinner, they retired to the basement. They sat immobile for a minute until Lewis told Spike, "It's gonna be ok."

Lewis always said that to him, and always it was ok so he believed him, "Yeah," he replied, "It's gonna be ok."

It won't always be. But his friend said it would be, so he would believe until he couldn't.


	14. Back in Business

**Back in Business**

Elite police didn't do breaks and holidays because the Team lost a member due to gunshot wound. They did do trauma counselling, but Dr Luria resident psychologist for the police had a battle in her hands, they were all fine.

It took threat of disciplinary action to get them on the chair, forget the couch, it wasn't going to happen. Dr Luria at least managed to speak to them one by one and cleared them for duty. Cleared them because work and commitment was what kept these guys sane. Deny them that and she knew it would cause considerable emotional and psychological pain. But at the same time wondered when all the "I'm fines" would exact their toll. To each of them she said in one way or another that she trusted them to know themselves, to know when they needed help. And did what she could to give them coping mechanisms, _Sometimes that's all one could do._

The Team busied itself getting to know replacement candidates. As a recruitment policy, they picked their own team mates; with the exception of Constable Sam Braddock, who was thrust upon them when a team mate was promoted to Sargent.

They started out with three hundred candidates but their number was culled to a handful in no time. Entry to the SRU wasn't to be sneezed at. It required mental acuity, physical strength and agility and psychological steadiness. There was one stand-out, an undercover cop from Vice Squad. Beautiful, sassy, self-contained, self-confident, experienced.

After weeks of trialing candidates everyone was eager to pick one, the Boss knew his team was keen on one officer.

Spike said she rapels like a spider and Lewis said she thinks on her feet. Kevin Wordsmworth asked, _"Is it time to vote yet or what?"_

Parker said she needed to do some more thinking. Ed Lane wondered what for, "_She's a no-brainer_." Parker agreed, _"She's got the chops, no question about it."_

Lane challenged, "_But_?"

Wordy replied, "_The Boss needs to think."_

And, the Team puppy said, _"Copy that, the Boss needs to think."_

The Boss didn't tell them what his hesitation was and what he found lacking in Donna Sabine. That was to be discussed between them. They would discuss the issues up-front upon Team One's return for the siren had blared and "Hot call" had rang throughout HQ.

Three men who recently lost their homes due to bank foreclosures had breached building security and were now seeking to confront the CEO Joel Graves of their mortgage society and to make him apologise in public for the policy of greed he employed as chief strategy for fattening the company's profit. There was no intent to take anyone hostage; that was until Graves refused to play ball and then all bets were off. Forcing Graves to face the media was the plan as far as Lorne Wilkes and Brian Bauman knew. They couldn't have anticipated that Stan Matthews had plans for self-immolation.

While Ed, Sam and Wordy searched for Wilkes and Bauman, Parker tried to talk down Matthews, who had doused himself in gasoline. Spike, the Techie set up the Command Post and decided quickly what he had to do_, "__Gotta keep thinking outside the toolbox.__"_

Not long after he was set up he heard the Boss inquire, _"Spike we've got a gentleman here releasing gasoline into an enclosed room without any ventilation. The concentration of vapors is high and growing and he's holding a lighter.__"_ He advised it wasn't just the lighter he's worried about, _"Anything that could set off a spark would create a fireball_."

"_Like fire arms?"_ clarified Parker.

"_All fire arms. Lethal, non-lethal, muzzle flash would be all it takes.__" _came the reply_._

Two simultaneous crisis going on: tactical involving Ed Lane, Sam Braddock and Kevin Wordsworth as they pursued Wilkes and Bauman through the building; and, negotiation involving Sgt Parker with his second Lewis Young.

_There's gotta be a way to end this peacefully, _thought Lewis. He spotted a giant fan used for drying as the building was undergoing renovation_, "Spike, I've got an idea,"_ he said.

"_Talk to me Lou_." The soft-spoken Lewis Young explained the plan, Spike excitedly said that would work. If there was one thing Lou liked about the bright spark of Team One, it was that he was open to other people's ideas. He didn't think he had all the answers.

The crisis ended peacefully and no one died. It took all of them working together, like links in a chain pulling people to safety. Lane, Braddock and Wordsworth managed to get Wilkes and Bauman to surrender.

The Sarge couldn't talk down Matthews but with Young's plan in play they prevented him setting himself on fire. The plan was simple: turn on the giant fan full force to prevent the lighter from lighting up and igniting the gasoline, those few seconds bought them time to wrestle the lighter from Matthews hands and for fire fighter to hose the area with water.

They all went home proud of the result. Spike and Lewis drove together and patted each other on the back, "Good job there, buddy," said Spike.

"Thanks, bro."

The Sargent picked up where he left off with Donna Sabine who said she understood now what Greg Parker was saying all along_, "It's not black and white." _The Boss had gotten through to her, it wasn't to say that the new recruit would never make a mistake but he was confident that that she had the right frame of mind and the right attitude. Anyone who could see where they were lacking could only get better with time.

There were more cases and critical incidences to follow. All requiring their skill sets and Donna Sabine gaining acceptance into the Team, except with Sam Braddock, who was hostile from the start. He thought of Sabine as a challenger to his girlfriend's place in the Team. That was enough for him to be cold and unreceptive to her.

It would take Sabine's move to Team Three and Callaghan's return to Team One for Braddockto accept the former as a friend and colleague. Under the circumstances it was understandable but inexcusable for it was unprofessional and childish. The Team Leader sensed the open hostility and called Braddock on it but stayed pretty much out of it, that was between Donna and Sam to reconcile. _For as long as it's not hurting the team's performance_, was how he viewed it. To his credit, Sam Braddock would later apologise to Donna Sabine.

The next big incidence involved a planned robbery that went tits up and escalated into hostage-taking. At serious risk were two children, a nanny and a male hostage. The subjects were armed and dangerous, not to mention their ring-leader was Russian with dishonourable military background. This was no textbook operation.

It was stacked against them too as the house was a fortress with the latest technical gizmos. It had surround camera system that exposed their movements to the subjects so breaching the perimeter became a serious case of cat-and-mouse. The operational word was stealth.

Spike contacted the security company to find out what made the security system ticked, then he had an idea **and** a silent accomplice who had his back. As often the case, Lewis was with him in the Truck, being the Sarge's second and Spike's de facto understudy.

The Techie's voice came over the comm. Link, _"Guys, there s way we can do this."_

"_Talk to me, Spike,"_ replied the Sarge who was desperate for an idea. They had just lost a hostage and they were very quickly running out of time.

"_Ok, the system's divided into sectors so we can shut them down one sector at a time. Sp as soon as the Ninjas go though sector one, we bring it back up. Then we go to the next, and then we go to the next…"_

"_Before they realize the sector's down?__"_

_**"**__That's the theory.__"_

_**"**__I'm not asking for theory, can we do it?__"_

Scarlatti replied confidently_, __**"**__Yeah!__"_ then covered his ear piece and whispered to Young_,_ _"__Theoretically."_

All everyone heard was a softly uttered, "Ugh" from Lewis. They didn't know what it was about. Had they known, they probably would have asked for a rethink of this half-cocked plan but Lewis was prepared to have his buddy's back.

It could have failed. Then they would have had to roast him instead of Spike. The Team Leader could be chewing his head off going, "You mean to tell me it was a theory all along and you went along with it?" Or the Boss going ballistic and saying, "Lewis, you're fired. You have been enabling your friend here for far too long."

Well, it was a plan and the genius thought it could work. But he wished in one sense that he left him out of it. _Theoretically, my ass is fried_, he thought. Spike glanced at Lewis when the operation went underway, "Don't worry, he said, "it'll work. It's gonna be ok!"

"If you say so," Lewis replied. He left the Command Truck to join the assault. Spike watched his friend's back and appreciated he could have said, "Don't do it!" Instead he backed him up with his complicit silence. He smiled and continued to play with his toys while the Ninjas did their thing.


	15. Visit the Sick and Feed the Poor

**Visit the Sick and Feed the Poor**

Sam Braddock wasn't the only one who visited Jules regularly. They all took turns in order not to overwhelm the recuperating officer. They mostly brought flowers because that was the done thing. They would be unaware that Jules didn't quite like the idea of watching them wither and die.

At least the Dynamic Duo were different in that regard. No flowers for them. That's for girlfriends to be and Jules wasn't to be. They were the bearers of other goodies. Chocolates. Crispies. Donuts. Cakes. Pastries. White wine. Red wine. Anything considered contraband in a hospital ward.

They would sit with Jules and regale her with stories, sometimes long past visiting hour.

Jules and Lou were in pained stitches one day as Spike related a story complete with voice animation. It started, he said, when Delia Semple the Customs Agent in charge of Airport Security made a comment about the guys escorting the repatriated serial killer they were there to meet, "_It wasn't bad for the guys who get to fly over, at least_."

"The Boss said, '_Well, if you like jumping over the ocean in a metal coffin, sure.'"_

Spike switched to female voice, "Delia looked at the Boss… amused, `_So there's something that you guys are actually afraid of_.'"

"The Boss said, '_Well, you know what? We all have our weak spots. Could be anything… flying._' Then, the Boss looked at Ed and said _'Cats'_."

"Ed said, '_It was one cat and it was mean!"_

"And I said, '_I was there, it was mean_.'"

It was a story that had become legendary just because it starred Ed Lane. Every time it was retold, the cat got bigger and meaner. The cat was variously described, depending on who's telling the story, as a Siamese cat, a Tabby, a Burmese, a Tortoise Shell, a White Cat, a Bombay Cat and much later a baby tiger. Then, a baby lion, then a baby cougar, then a baby puma, then a baby panther.

It was also variously described as weighing 5 kilos to 35 kilos. "Thirty five kilos?" their audience would gasp disbelievingly. "That can't be a cat."

No one could actually remember the honest detail. All they knew was Ed Lane was screaming like a girl as he swatted the cat, and threatened to pepper spray it until the owner came to his rescue.

When they were all laughed out, the conversation turned serious. Jules wanted to know how the airport escort operation went. Spike and Lou looked at each other. The eye contact wasn't lost on Jules. She had a feeling. Her eyebrow went up, "Come on, what's up, guys?"

Spike beamed at the Tiny Dynamo, "We don't want to steal Sam's thunder, he'll tell ya." Jules sharp-eyed Lewis, he shrugged. He knew if they say too much, Sam would kill them. If they tell too little, Jules would kill them. If they said nothing, they increased their life span. So, they said nothing. At any rate, there were more funny stories to tell.

After an hour, the head nurse peeped in to let them know that her charge needed to rest and could they please wrap it up.

Spike and Lou got up on their feet, kissed Jules on each cheek and bade her good-bye. On the way out, they bumped into Sam Braddock still looking concussed after landing on top of a flash bang. They nodded to each other as Sam hurried to make up time. Visiting hour was nearly over.

"Should we have warned him," asked Lewis.

"Nah," said Spike. "What's another flash bang?"

They laughed themselves silly and high-fived.

They reached the car park, Spike didn't like the idea of going home, "Where to next?"

"Come with me, I'll introduce you to some cool people."

They left the car in the hospital car park and walked some distance, "Why are we walking?" the Italian asked. "Because where we're goin, your car will not last two minutes before it's cannibalised."

They soon found themselves in an inner city community centre. Lou greeted a bunch of guys, covered in tattoos and speaking in an alien language. "Hon-nah, Bro?" Lou went on to perform some fancy handshakes with the leader, or who appeared to be the leader.

Scarlatti observed silently, wondering who these people were. He knew he was being discussed when he heard his name. He smiled. The gang gathered around him and in seeming deference to his language and cultural ignorance, the leader reverted to English, "How ya doin, buddy?"

"I'm good," he said.

"Let's go inside," Lou gently nudged him inside. On the way in, Lou explained that the gang leader was Bro Joseph, a member of the Jesuit order who started a ministry to reach out to gang members. "I volunteer here every now and then."

"Do they know your day job?"

"Yeah, they know I'm a cop but they don't know I'm SRU."

"Fair enough. It's dangerous as it is," Spike said. He surveyed the centre. Billiard tables, gaming consoles, a 10-year old television set. Taped on the walls were art works of every kind. Charcoal painting, abstract art in oil, portraits in watercolour, sculptures made of recycle materials. It was a hodge podge of eclectic arts.

"What do you do here?"

"Two things: I teach youngsters dance moves and I help in the kitchen."

They went to the kitchen, Lou introduced Spike to two middle-aged volunteers, it was like seeing double. "This is Anna and Angelina. They're identical twins. Anna wears her brooch on the right, Angelina on the left." Lou explained helpfully. "But once you've known them long enough as I have you'd be able to tell them apart."

"Hello, I'm Spike." He liked them instantly there was a kind of magic about them.

Anna asked in a recruiting sort of way, "Are you staying to help?"

Spike glanced at Lou who smiled encouragingly, "Yeah," he replied. "I'm handy in the kitchen."

That was all Lou was waiting for, "Well, I better leave you to it, then. I've got a class waiting."

Spike spend the rest of the afternoon regaling Anna and Angelina with stories, and seasoning food while Lou got busy being Happy Feet.

On the way home, Spike asked Lou why he never told him about the community centre, "It never came up," he said.

"I don't believe you. You just didn't want the right hand to know what the left hand is doing."

Lou smiled. Spike thought that smile had a deeper meaning, one day he would find out what it was and he wouldn't believe it.


	16. Blood Don't Make Family

_Author's Note: Tissue alert._

**Blood Don't Make Family**

If there was one call any police officer didn't like getting it's one involving children. A baby made it worse. On the way over to the location, they had an earful of chilling screams from a mother protecting her child. She was hyperventilating, breathlessly sobbing_, "Where's my husband? What did you do to my husband?"_

They heard the door being kicked in and more voices yelling and crying and then it went deathly silent. The one thing worse than hearing bone-chilling screams was hearing nothing in an instant.

Winnie dug deep. Any information she could feed them ASAP could save lives. She soon discovered that Andrew and Cindy Greenwood had recently adopted a baby. The connection to Jessie Wyeth was clear but it would take a little longer to figure out who Terry Dornan was and how he fitted into the domestic scene.

It went high-octane in a flash. By the time they arrived at the scene, the couple had snatched the baby and they were in pursuit. Ed Lane only had one tactical instruction_: "Less lethal all around. No tasers, no gas. Wait for weapons on my go, and nothing, repeat nothing, till we get a 20 on that baby."_

The pursuit had to be scaled back with the baby's life at risk in high speed traffic. Lane instructed Lewis Young to attach a GPS locator to the car using a launcher so they could track it from a distance. The young constable armed the scary looking launcher and aimed at the car's bumper, his upper body dangled out the SVU's window. He could see from his elevated position that the driver and Cindy were out of their minds with worry. No wonder - seeing a man leaning out of a window in full combat gear, armed with what appeared to be a lethal weapon was enough to get anyone crazy with fear. It didn't help that he himself was highly concerned of what this was doing to the couple.

Lewis took longer than necessary to fire, Lane was getting impatient, all vehicles were in position, "_Lewis, you've got no time…_" He didn't fire. Sgt Parker followed this up with another, _"Take the shot, Lou." _

It was elementary – really. He has 97% accuracy in the firing range but real life scenario was different, he couldn't ignore the sight of the woman in the car ducking and covering the baby with her head. She would no doubt lay her body across him if she could. He shouldn't have been watching anything or anyone else but the car's bumper. _Sorry_, he thought. _No excuse_.

Spike wondered what Lewis was waiting for, _Christmas? Maybe I need to get closer? _He mentally cheered on his mate_, Come on, Lou you can do this. _

When finally the job was done, Lewis sat straight back on the passenger seat and Spike turned off his Comm, a signal for him to do the same. "What's wrong, Bro?"

Lewis replaced the GPS launcher to the backseat, briefly glanced at his friend before looking straight ahead, "Don't know man…saw how freaked out they were, thinking they were gonna die." He audibly expelled air, "It sounds simple right? Load, aim and fire. Til you see people's reaction. It's stupid really because my hesitation probably caused them to freak out more."

Spike patted his shoulder, "Don't worry about it, Bro. You got the job done." They turned their Comms back on in time to hear Ed Lane say they lost the GPS signal. _After all that_, they thought.

The pursuit came to a conclusion in a theme park. Nineteen year old Terry, they would soon learn was the biological father. The agitated young Dad spotted them and mentally lost it. He grabbed the baby from his mother's arms and raced up to the roller coaster. By this time, the Boss had acquired information that indicated towards a predisposition to suicide. Terry had lost a parent to suicide when he was five.

Distraught, scared, and battling an overwhelming sense of failure Terry jumped to his death but not before leaving his baby in Sgt Parker's arms. He had reached his point of no return. No words, no promises, no pleading could reach him.

As Terry plunged to his death, Spike and Lou comforted Jessie the best they could. She has no one left now. Her mother passed away from drugs overdose years before. Her father she never knew. All she had were Terry and her baby, and they too were gone. Baby Owen would be returned to the loving arms of his adoptive parents; and would be called Liam Greenwood, henceforth.

Team One returned to HQ to debrief. It was sad all around, particularly for Constable Donna Sabine who was ordered to shot Terry before he had the chance to get up to the top of the roller coaster stairs. She hesitated. In her eyes, from her perspective, she saw a kid with a baby in his arms.

At the group debrief, the two Constables sat quietly, they had nothing much to say or contribute about today's incident. They were just witnesses to the adults holding court. They watched. They listened. They felt for Jessie and the Boss and Donna Sabine and Ed Lane and Kevin Wordsworth. When the meeting ended, the "grown ups" continued to speak to each other about this and that; of the whys and the wherefores.

They decided it was time to debrief by themselves. They showered, changed and drove off away from the confines of HQ. They bought a six pack and some nibblies, brought them home to Lou's apartment.

Lou turned on the television to the Comedy Channel. Spike made dinner and together, without speaking another word of it, sorted themselves out to face another day.

They got each other's back. And when they find themselves emotionally limping after a tough call, they leaned on each other to make it through. So Spike was alarmed when he had a morbid passing thought. His gaze fell upon his friend. Lewis was reclined on the triple-seater sofa, his long legs draped over the arm of the seat, a picture of health and wholeness.

The thought came without warning_. What would I do without you? Shit! Where did that come from? _ He swatted the thought_. No, Lou isn't going anywhere_.


	17. Staging Ocho Rios

**Staging Ocho Rios**

It was hard to get – the permission – for two SRU officers in the same team to go away on holidays together. Standard procedure allowed only one officer to be away at any one time. Breaks were taken on strict rotation. It was important to maintain team alchemy and balance. But these two had been on Greg Parker's case since attending to a grocery robbery gone wrong - over two months ago.

Two young friends, Adam and Donnie, held up the grocery manager for the day's takings. One thing led to another, the SRU was called when one of the subjects took one of the armoured car's security guard's side arm. As often the case, Spike and Lewis were holed up inside the Command Truck with Sarge.

The incidence quickly escalated from simple robbery to hostage-taking and, in the midst of the high tension drama, Donnie shot the security guard when he charged at Adam with a knife. For the third time that night, Parker phoned the store, Adam answered it frantically explaining to Greg Parker, _"I'm so sorry, he didn't mean to shot. He didn't mean to shot_."

Donnie made a grab for the phone and could be heard over the Comm link sounding agitated and distressed, _"I know you can see in… I know you saw what happened. Someone comes at your friend with a knife, what would you do? Someone comes at your best friend with a knife!"_ Parker said he understood that he just wanted to protect his friend.

Lou was seated behind Parker and Spike as they watched the shooting incident play out on video feed. He had a view of Spike's profile,_ What would I do? _ Spike saw Lou from his peripheral vision. _What would I do?_

Parker make a calculated call to use Adam to get through to Donnie, a ploy was devised to supply Adam with an earwig so Parker could "be with him" as he slowed down his friend. It was very risky but it was the best chance they had, as the Boss said, "_I'm in no hurry to pull the trigger on someone barely old enough to drive_." At any rate, no one wanted a child in their cross hairs.

It escalated quickly when Adam inadvertently gave it away as he touched his ear to receive better sound reception. To Donnie, it was a betrayal. In the end, SRUhad to resort to explosive entry to save the hostages. Donnie was cornered by Ed Lane and Sam Braddock. Adam pleaded with Ed, _"He's not gonna hurt me."_ And in a manner only someone whose life had intertwined with another deeply, Adam pleaded with his life-long friend, "_Donnie, it's gonna be ok_."

Donnie was at a breaking point. He had lost all hope. His older brother died, his Dad bailed. And now, he was losing his friend and going to jail. Nothing to live for. He aimed the gun at his head.

Adam wasn't giving up. He pulled the earwig from his ear, showed it to Donnie_. "Donnie, listen, it's me. Just me. I don't care where we are. Lightbridge. Jail? It doesn't make a difference. But if you do this, it's all over Remember we're brothers and brothers need to be there for each other."_

Donnie sought an assurance, "_Always_?"

"_Always"_ came a firm reply.

Since then, for reasons only known to them, Spike and Lou had a sense of urgency to go away on a holiday together. They picked Ocho Rios, where Mom Y was from. The request was approved because Team One was scheduled for a three-day break in two months anyway, and so they argued what's another two days. Parker gave it to them. They had earned it so the five-day holiday was on. In their place, Team One would have a temporary team member from Team Four and a Techie from Team Three.

Lewis was chief organiser, albeit the old fashion way. He went from one tour agency to the next to get information, brochures, ideas, and even picked his Mom's brain. If it had been up to Spike, he'd let his fingers do the walking. He'd use the internet to search for tours and hotels; book plane tickets and pay for them online. It would have been organised in thirty minutes, not thirty days. But no, Lewis didn't like it that way. He had to browse pages and pages of coloured brochures; or, he said it didn't feel real.

His locker overflowed with these things. Sam teased him about his collection, "When are you guys goin anyway? Aren't you running out of time yet?"

"It's not for another five weeks," he said.

Spike piped in, "I told him to leave to me but no, he had to be anal about it. So I let him be." Lou rolled his towel and Spike knew what was coming. He stood behind Sam and challenged, "Go ahead! Do it! The gun cage is still open."

They were still playfully mucking about when the "hot call" came from the surround sound system, a bank robbery in progress. This time Spike had the chance to shine. His sharp skill in technology saved the day. Using sounds from the video feed from the kidnappers, Spike was able to triangulate the location where the wife of the employee was being held. Luckily, Donna recognised the stained glass window as the "Viper" a night club with underworld history.

There were many more calls after that in the weeks that followed, life in the SRU was never dull but another critical incident would push the button for Ocho Rios to happen.

Team One was called to attend to a school shooting. The subject was a brutalised member of the high school, bullied to within the edge of his sanity. Team One mobilised to secure the students and save the injured, then they rallied to find the subject before he could hurt anyone else or himself, for that matter.

In the art room where a young woman and her former boyfriend hid, the remorseful subject came to seek solitude. She called 911 to reach out to Sgt Parker. She offered to reach out to him, "He's my friend", she said. They heard this heart-rending conversation.

Billy Dresden: _I just wanted somebody to care! Some-somebody to apologize! It's so stupid, and... I just made it so much worse. I sent... a video out to all of Tony's friends. I don't even know what I'm doing! _

Ella Brandt: _Billy... everyone is scared. You know what happened after lunch hour?_

Billy: _What?_

Ella: _I told Scott that I... couldn't go out with him anymore. I think you scare him. I think you freak him out because you're smart and you're interesting and because I like you. He feels stupid and he acts like a jerk, but it's not your fault. It's his. Billy... it is not your fault. This whole day, it shouldn't have happened. I wish I could take it back, I really do. _

Billy: _Yeah, me too. I-I'm sorry. _

Ella: _No, it's okay. Hey. I'm right here with you. Hey, you and me, together. _

More drama would soon follow when a police officer mistakenly thought Billy killed his son Tony, a student in the same high school and who had been one of those who regularly bullied Billy. In retaliation, he shot Billy. Fortunately, the young subject was not fatally wounded and everyone would learn a lesson about friendship and tolerance. It would be a day never to forget.

At the end of shift, Lou said he was ready to make the booking. He asked Spike, "Wanna come along?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he said. That afternoon, they made the bookings, paid for the holiday with just three weeks to spare.


	18. All They Wanted to do was Dance

**All They Wanted to do was Dance**

Some calls really get you thinking about your life and where it's heading.

They were physically exhausted. They had already completed a 10 hour shift when they were asked to do overtime because Team Five was still attending to a motel stand-off. The overtime soon went into overdrive when a couple robbed a pawnshop and threatened the owner's wife. All they took was an art-deco dress ring. Team One would discover that the same couple had also done a runner from a restaurant. In his many years of policing, Parker had never encountered such a call, "_You dress up, you go out to dinner, and then you try to rob a pawn shop._" Something wasn't right. Jules Callaghan replied, _"A fun Friday night."_

The elderly owners of the pawnshop said that the male subject's parting words to them was, _"You're short on time, too. What would you do with what you have left?" _They also reported that the couple took his .357 mag.

They caught a break when calls flooded in from witnesses about a vehicular accident involving a gold sedan driven by "Bonnie and Clyde" as they christened the couple. Greg instructed the despatcher, Winnie Camden, to track down the owner of the sedan to find out just who they're looking for. The couple reportedly abandoned their vehicle and jumped in a taxi so Spike tapped into the Taxi fleet's GPS to track the whereabouts of the couple.

Winnie came up with the names Laura Scheinmann and Evan Hewson and their home address, Jules Callaghan went to check the house to help them profile the subjects. With the landlady's permission, she searched the rental and found two vials of lethal doses of morphine under the bed. Then she reported that Laura's study indicated she was "_losing it_". That she was struggling to remember people, stuck on her office wall were pictures of significant people in their lives and their names. There on the wall was the phone number of one Dr Fylin.

"_Give me the number_," urged Spike from the Command Truck.

What he discovered from Dr Fylin placed Team One squarely in a moral dilemma. "_She has spontaneous CJD. It's very rare. It's like one in a million. Your brain starts literally disintegrating. There's no treatment. There's no known cure. You can go from diagnosis to death in the space of two weeks. It gets worse by the day. Laura's losing her memory and her balance, her motor skills, all her major brain functions_."

Ed Lane interviewed the Cab driver who said that in his view the couple were not substance abusers and that they simply told him they were running short on time, and all they wanted to do was dance.

They have been together 13 years, since they were 15; a lifetime happy together. She couldn't face dying without dignity so she asked Evan to help end her life. How could he deny her that? How could he endure the sight of her losing her mind and her personality? How could he hope to live without her? So he planned to end his life, too. This was what brought them here, a place of love, where they first met that many years ago. This was what made him use hostages as human shield. They wanted to be together till the end.

From his vantage point, Sam Braddock said Lauren had opened her purse, they knew what this meant. She was preparing a lethal dose of morphine to inject. There was only one tactical option open to Team One; and, it wasn't pretty.

Ed Lane_: Sam, you got the shot?_

Sam Braddock: _Multiple hostages. It's high-risk._

Ed Lane: _Less-lethal - can you do it? _

Sam Braddock_: Do we want to do it? _

Ed Lane_: There's a risk we hit the hostages. We go less-lethal, we're looking at an injury. We let her do what she wants to do and we are looking at a death. We can't let her kill herself. _

Sam Braddock: _Yeah, copy. _

Mike Scarlatti: [from the Command Truck] _Morphine's painless. _

Gregory Parker: _What are you saying, Spike? _

Mike Scarlatti_: Isn't this her life - what's left of it? I'm just saying, maybe we should be looking the other way. _

Lewis Young: _Maybe it's better we let her have what she wants. _

Ed Lane_: Can't do it. _

Kevin 'Wordy' Wordsworth: _We interfere, the subject could start shooting. _

Mike Scarlatti: _So, we put lives at risk to save somebody who's already dying? _

Ed Lane: _Our job is to save lives. We're cops. We're not judges_.

Sam took a deep breath, steadied his nerves, aimed for the syringe and didn't miss. The rubber bullet hit the mark and the hostages scattered to safety. Laura tearfully faced them, "_I don't get to make many choices anymore, but this choice is mine_."

She asked Evan to shoot her, "_Please_" she begged. They have talked about this for four days. She was ready.

Parker persisted, "_I know something about memories, and I know a little something about what happens when someone shoots someone else. It's not like you think it is. It's horrible. It's messy as hell. I mean, you see something like that, that image stays in your head_."

Evan looked lovingly at Laura, not liking to see her distressed, "_Don't... don't listen to him, Lo._"

Greg continued to speak to Laura, "_And what you're asking Evan to do, it's going to be the last memory he has of you. It's going to be the last thing he sees every night before he goes to sleep_."

"_Don't believe him. There's lots I'm going to see when I close my eyes at night, okay_?"

Gregory Parker gave Laura the hard line, "_But I got to be honest with you, Laura. It's not going to get that far. You see, my team... is going to shoot Evan before he shoots you. It's the law. It's our job_."

But it was Ed Lane's disclosure of Evan's suicide plan that prompted Laura to reconsider, "_Why_?" she asked Evan. "_Why_?" And he said he couldn't go on without her. Not even the promise that one day he would find another love could comfort him.

Thankfully, it ended well. They gave Laura and Evan space, and the chance to have their last dance in the place they first met. They gave them a promise they could stay together until the end.

Team One practically crawled back to HQ having now spent a total of 15 hours on the job. They sat around the conference table unable to move a muscle. Deep in thought and all knotted in an emotional vortex.

Spike wondered if he himself would find such compelling love.

Lou decided he would want a love so pure.

Jules and Sam wondered what it would be like to be allowed the freedom to love openly, grandly, happily.

Wordy didn't have to wonder – he and Shelley have been through many things in many years together.

Ed didn't doubt it: he loved his family more than life itself.

And, Greg longed to have his son by his side, to guide and to hold. Right now, it was all he hoped for: that he could show his fatherly love to his son without the distance and the barriers.


	19. Running for Life

_Author's Note: I wanted to write a chapter that would allow you, my readers, to experience being with Spike and Lou. If I did this right, then you should be able to see them in your mind's eye running together. You should be able to picture the surroundings as they follow the trail. I hope you would be able to insert yourself there as they pound the pavement in unison. _

_At the very least. I hope you finish your reading with a smile on your face._

_If I have been a blessing to you, give me a feedback, please. Or, even if I didn't. Your critique would help me improve._

**Running for Life **

There were times the duo didn't feel like exercising in the gym, so they pounded the pavements instead. They arranged to meet at High Park in Toronto at the ungodly hour of 5am. Lou got there first. Spike arrived shortly in his 20 year old BMW coupe, a pre-historic before microchips antique sort of a car.

The smiling Techie got out of his car with two cups of coffee. "Caffeine to fire you up," he said as he handed the cafe latte to Lewis.

"Thanks," Lewis toasted him gratefully. He went to his car and tossed Spike a baby size chocolate muffin. His running mate caught it and wrinkled his face at the itsy-bitsy size, "What's this? Brownie?" He took a bite and said "thanks" with a mouthful of muffin, spitting crumbs all over.

"You're disgusting."

"Good morning to you, too," he said in reply.

They limbered up for five minutes then started to slowly jog alongside each other. Today, we planned to do 10K.

They were outfitted in their preferred technical apparel called CoolMax, made from light weight, stretchy material. Unlike cotton that soaked up sweat, this specialised fabric took sweat away from the body. It also had the advantage of drying quickly. They wore their cold weather beanie; and on their feet a pair of Salomon Speedcross trail running shoes. As an elite sportsman, Lewis didn't run without his Nike Plus Sportsband pedometer and water bottle. On the other hand, Spike run just to keep fit.

The weather was predicted to be delightful, a perfect spring day. According to the weather bureau, the maximum temperature would be around 17 Degrees Celsius. But right now, at 5am, it was still chilly at 10 degrees Celsius. They've picked up the pace after five minutes.

The sun was slowly peeking out, bathing the surrounding park in a burst of colour. High Park has so many different plants and trees. From wild forests to the Chinese garden and the famous Japanese cherry trees, the Park has truly genuine beautiful vegetation. It didn't even feel like they were smack bang in the middle of the city. It was peaceful. Serene. Beautiful.

Their feet landed on the pavement in tandem, Spike taking point from Lewis; the Jamaican setting the tempo and the rythm. They were conscious to remember to belly breath, the way a baby does; or a yogi for that matter. Their abdominal area expanded and contracted like someone breathing in and out of a balloon. When breath is shallow, one only uses the very upper part of your lungs and don't take advantage of total lung capacity. Oxygen is what muscles use to convert stored fuels into usable energy and any reduction in oxygen uptake will affect the ability to burn glycogen or fuel.

Spike followed Lou's cadence and stride. Their relaxed upper body and lower body worked in unison rather than against each other. This spread the work of running over the whole body and took the load off of any single muscle group.

They ran to last the distance. Avoiding over-striding which was a major cause of hamstring and knee injuries. So they made sure their foot landed under them, not in front of them. To avoid stiffness they bent their knees at a 90º angle running at a good medium pace.

They had been going for 15 minutes, and had reached the most famous part of High Park, Hillside Gardens. It started by the restaurant in the middle and ended by the lakefront. They reached the start of long winding network of trails, secret pathways, not known to many weekend-visitors. They encountered squirrels and birds along the way, and not another human in sight.

The Hillside gardens had several waterfalls in the middle of the gardens and two small bridges. The flowers around the water were in full bloom and were breathtakingly beautiful. Soon they passed the best known landmark in the Park, the maple leaf at the bottom of Hillside Gardens.

Spike interrupted the silence, "Lou, do you know that the Maple leaf landmark is visible in satellite images?"

Lewis glanced at the landmark, "No, but I do now." They would run all the way to the top of the hill to see a great view of the Maple leaf.

They ran down the hill to the lakeside trail and made their way up north and into the West Ravine Trails winding between the trees of the mini forest. Lou checked the time. They would be late for work. They won't finish the trail within the hour even if they sprinted.

"Spike, we're gonna be late for work," Lou said as he turned to lead them back to their car via another trail.

"I'll send Sarge a message." Spike paused to send a text, "Sori lu & I wil b l8, c ya." Greg Parker looked at the message and wondered what the two were up to. Nevertheless, he wasn't fussed, _All they'll likely missed is the exercise regime_.

The message sent, Spike started to pick up pace again, but Lewis was nowhere to be found. _What the_, he thought, he was rather peeved. There was no time to waste so he followed the path most logical. Not far from where he thought he saw Lewis last, he heard noises. He stopped running to determine the origin of the sound.

It was coming from further down the trail, he picked up his pace. "Lou, buddy!", he called out hoping Lou would call back. _Nada_, he kept running. The voices and the noises now seemed closer. He stopped in his stride as Lewis' back came into view. He was leaning on a body. He stealthily approached and almost gasps when he laid eyes on her. She was battered beyond recognition, and dumped in the Park, no doubt left here to die. Someone obviously didn't count on anyone stumbling upon her body so soon.

Lewis was performing CPR, "Call EMS." He said in his usual phlegmatic way one would think he was ordering Chinese take-away. Spike called 911 then assisted with the life-saving procedure. "She's got a collapsed lung. Tension pneumothorax."

They locked eyes, Spike's brown orbs widened, _This is not good, _he thought grimly. "How'd you know?"

"You know what we're looking at Spike. Large veins in the neck sticking out, the skin bluish in colour because of lack of oxygen. Rapid pulse. She has a stab wound here," Lewis turned her slightly to her left side. "She's textbook, Spike."

Tension pneumothorax, air builds up under pressure and usually totally collapses one or both of the lungs. This causes severe dysfunction of the cardiovascular system. The pressure built up in the lung cavity slows or stops the return of blood to the heart from the veins, because the heart has less blood available to pump into the main arteries, blood pressure drops, and other vital organs are rapidly affected. He came out of his thoughtful reverie when he heard Lewis' diagnosis, "She could die if she doesn't receive emergency medical attention."

"Do you know what to do?" he asked. To his surprise, Lewis nodded.

"You sure?" he asked sceptical.

"Yeah, but I need a straw like instrument to let the air out of the lungs," Lewis replied.

Spike remembered reeds they passed near the lake. _That has to work_. "Wait here, I know where to get one," he sprinted off. There was little time for the woman. He reached the lake in less than three minutes and raced back as fast as he could.

The straight stalk of the reed was ideal. He fished out his car key, attached to it his Swiss Army knife. _Never leave home without it._

Spike proceeded to cut the stalk to about a foot and sharpened the edge as best he could using the mini saw. That done, he handed it to Lou, "It's very dirty though, are we going to save her from heart failure only to kill her with infection?"

"Nothing antibiotics won't cure. But if she's dead, no amount of antibiotic could save her." _Fair enough_. At any rate, Lewis washed off some of the dirt from his water bottle.

"Give me your Swiss knife." Lewis took a deep breath. He didn't tell Spike that he learned the procedure watching a documentary.

Lewis cut away the woman's top to expose the chest. He felt for the space between the 2nd and 3rd rib in a line down the chest from the middle of the collar bone. Spike noticed Lou audibly breathed out his tension before excising a hole in the midclavicular line. He inserted the reed, plunging the sharp end with just enough force. They heard a rush of air escape under pressure. They simultaneously expelled air, as they too had forgotten to breath. Lewis covered the hole when the woman inhaled and uncovered when she exhaled. Slowly, she started to turn pink.

Seven minutes later the EMS arrived with the crime scene detectives not far behind. They both rushed out to there as soon as she was in safe hands. When they arrived at HQ, exactly an hour late, Ed Lane told them off without waiting for an explanation. The Fearless Leader wasn't going to accept any explanation. This was Team One. Team One didn't do late!

"Go out there and run 10K."

Spike's face fell, he was about to protest when Lewis motioned for him to stop. They changed into their gym clothes and started running again, round and round the exercise yard.

When the 10K was all ran out, they headed back all sweat and tears. Then they heard Ed Lane's bellowing for them to meet him in the briefing room. They looked at each other and thought, _What now?_

"Why didn't you tell me the reason you were late today?" he said still mildly annoyed.

Spike turned to Lewis, his face a picture of complete ignorance, "Why didn't we?" he asked sounding almost child-like. He looked so funny that Lewis cracked up laughing.

Ed Lane shook his pretty face and said, "For not telling me in the first place, go run another 10k."

"Nooooo," said Spike. "Noooo, I'm done running."

Ed moved towards the despatch desk, smiled and winked at Winnie.


	20. Special People

_Author's Note: Ed Lane and Michael Jameson were featured in a one-shot called "A Valedictory Speech." _

**Special People**

There were people who made a mark on their lives one way or another.

For Jules Callaghan it was Tasha, the brave young woman who battled through life's trials and tribulations like a true champion. For in Tasha she saw a shade of herself. A survivor. And to a lesser extent, Penny and Lily, the two girls they saved from the lair of a pedophile. Last Christmas, the girls send them a Christmas card but Jules got one especially.

For Ed Lane, it was Michael Jameson. This young man would always be special to him. Lane would keep in touch and be proud of what the young man would eventually achieve in life.

For Kevin Wordworth, it was the sisters Rebecca Kessfield and Sadie Fitzhaven. He not only supported them through their court ordeal but introduced them to his wife, Shelley. Together, they would form a group that would reach out to women, and even men, in abusive relationship. They all have one thing in common: In their suffering, they found strength.

For Sam Braddock, it was Simon Strachan. He understood him. Empathised with him. He cheered for him as he took tentative steps towards independence from a tyrannical father. Sam could only imagine what it must be like to live with an abusive father because though he grew with an authoritarian and distant Dad at least the General was never physically abusive.

For Spike, it was RJ Strachan. He couldn't stay upset with someone who love chemistry - that's just God's honest truth. RJ first approached him to say "sorry" as part of his rehabilitation. "All is forgiven" he remembered saying. It started from there. It later became a friendship of like mind as they discussed chemistry, physics and robotics. Time would come when Spike would write a letter of recommendation to his Alma Mater's Dean of Applied Sciences to accept RJ into the undergraduate programme. In the young man, he recognised a beautiful mind. In the future, another wunderkid would impact his life but that would still be a couple of years away.

For Lewis, it was the brothers Derek and Mattie Medeiros. They were the latest in a long line of people they have rescued from the clutches of death itself. Orphaned after their mother was killed in a drive-by shooting, Derek straightened out his life to acquire full custody of his younger brother. But there was nothing simple about life in a ghetto. One unfortunate day little Matt witnessed a murder, to silence him the gang would have to kill him too.

Derek came home to find Matt bleeding from a gun shot wound, when questioned the little boy steadfastly refused to admit what happened. Nevertheless, the caring big brother got them to the hospital and asked a friendly nurse to assist with removing the bullet. " _I just need you to trust me. He's my little brother. I can't have Social Services take him away from me_." But before they could do anything, the gang came to the hospital looking to finish the job on Matt.

When advice of the nature of the "hot call," Ed Lane assessment's could be summed up with these words, "Uncontrolled entrances, hundreds of rooms." It was, indeed, a scenario of nightmarish proportion.

Team One didn't just have to contend with an uncontainable battle ground where protagonists on all sides were armed with loaded weapons, they had to deal with aggressive gangbanger behaviour and belief system. Then they had to deal with two brothers who didn't have faith in the system. They've been failed before and as far as they were concerned the police could't be trusted. That if they wanted to be safe, they had to do it themselves.

They all heard the Boss say to Derek, "_I'm not talking to you as a cop, I'm talking to you as a man who wants you to succeed. And you made a choice to be somebody different. Don't quit. Don't quit on that choice. Don't quit on the guy that you set out to be, who Matt needs you to be, and who your mom would've been so proud of_." They sensed Derek's ambivalence. In his heart of heart, he knew that the Sargent had spoken the truth but he still had no choice. He's got to save his baby brother and that could only mean taking matter into his own hands. Ultimately, thankfully, Parker prevailed.

They heard their Team Leader negotiate with little Mattie as the distraught child aimed a gun at one of the suspects. He could only see one way out of their private hell, that was to kill the people who wanted to kill him. Ed Lane, himself a father, spoke to Matt as if he was his own, _"We're gonna get through this, Matt. I'm not gonna let you down_."

He still couldn't believe, wouldn't trust. Why should he? Weren't the police to blame for their mother's killer getting killed? And, weren't they to blame that her killers were still roaming free?

"_I'm sorry,_" he said tearfully as he continued to aim the gun at his assailant. He's had enough. His young life had been nothing but sorrow and difficulties. What was left of it would never be lived in peace, not until these scum bags were buried six feet under.

But Ed wouldn't give up easily, "**_I'm not gonna punch out at the end of this shift_.**" Lou was struck in the gut. Ed said it and he meant it. He meant every word of it. Slowly, Matt lowered the gun, _"I'm sorry_" he repeated.

_"You have nothing to be sorry about. You have nothing to be sorry about_," was all Ed could say to reassure the boy that all would be fine.

"I'm not gonna punch out at the end of this shift," Lou repeated to himself. He made a mental note to look for Derek and Matt on his free day. He would take them to the community centre, introduce them to Brother Joseph, Anna and Angelina and all the cool people who could make a difference in their lives.

And he would recruit Spike to introduce Matt to the big beautiful world of the world wide web. They would open up his mind to all the possibilities the world has to offer._ Everyone should have the chance to move on, move up and move out._

He did this prior to this longed for trip to Ocho Rios with his best buddy. One of the many beautiful things he did before he left for good.

_We are close to the end of this story - may be four more chapters. Please stay till the end._


	21. Nine Days before Ocho Rios

_Author's Note: I followed the episodes listing of the Canadian broadcast, not the U.S. version. Thanks for reading._

**Nine Days before Ocho Rios**

Lewis went on holiday ahead of Spike. He applied for two weeks leave, Spike just five days. Perhaps it was serendipity, perhaps it was just meant to be. He had things to do, people to visit, places to see, and a rock to climb.

So while Spike kept the peace, Lewis kept an ear on Team One through his friend's daily update. One fateful day, he followed "Cosgrove in the Morning" a popular radio morning show as an hour-long hostage-saga unravelled and Team One was called to resolve it. Like many listeners, he was both intrigued and fearful for the hostage, local politician Ryan Malone. At the conclusion of the incident, Lou sent Spike a message, "Good job, Bro."

The Italian called back. Lewis smirked when Spike's dimpled face appeared on his screen. _The silly bugger_, he thought. Unbeknown to him, the Italian has fiddled with his phone. So now every time he called, his face appeared and instead of the usual boring Nokia ringtone Winnie's voice called out "Hot Call". The volume escalated so he answered it on third.

"What have you done to my phone?" Lewis asked disapprovingly.

"Don't you think it's cool?" Scarlatti the Techie replied with unbridled amusement. "Oh, hello to you, too," Lewis sighed.

"Hey, Lou," he said still sounding perky, "Guess why the ladies love me?"

The Jamaican laughed, "Ok why?"

"Cos I'm a geek with combat skills," Spike waited for a repartee but none came all he heard was a soft chuckle from his friend.

"Where are you?"

"At home… with Mom and Dad."

"Can I speak to Mom?"

"Sure," he overheard Lou, "Mom, Spike." The two chatted and laughed for a good 10 minutes. Lewis groaned, his best friend called and spoke to him for a whole 30 seconds, sometimes he wondered. Eventually Mom Y passed the phone back, "Hey, we gonna to the Goose the day before we head off to Jamaica, ya comin?"

"Wouldn't miss it. Oh, and don't call… I'll call you."

"Why?"

"Spike will it kill you for once not to ask why? Just don't call, ok. I won't be reachable anyway."

"Ok, the suspense is killing me… but if you're not at the Goose on Saturday I will organise a search party," Spike said in all seriousness.

Lou laughed. "I'll be there!"

They both looked at the phone when they finished speaking. _Nine days_, the Techie thought was the longest they had been apart since finding each other from a pool of police academy entrants. Meanwhile, Lou was thinking, _I miss you already, Bro_.

Lewis spent most of three days helping his Dad with the garden. Dad Y went inside to get a glass of water, found his wife staring out of the kitchen window, looking at their only son as he shovelled dirt into a freshly dug out hole where they planted a maple tree. Dad came over and placed both hands on her shoulders, "What's up with ya?"

"I don't know… I can't shake this horrible feeling…"

"What feeling?"

'Oh… nothing. It doesn't make sense. He's here but I'm missing him… I can't explain it." Dad Y silently squeezed his wife's shoulders. He confessed he didn't share such feelings, he's just happy to have their son to themselves. "He's wonderful, isn't he?"

Lewis sensed he was being watched. He turned around and saw his parents through the window; he gave them a wave and a smile. They smiled and waved him in, he shook his head from side to side and returned to what he was doing… like there was no tomorrow. His parents came out to join him bearing freshly baked cookies and cold water.

"Is there beer?" he asked.

"Sure," his Dad left and brought back a couple. They sat in the newly built pergola, the raw pine had now been varnished reddish maple tint, "This turned out nice," he said. "Thanks to you," said Dad. Mom declined to join them, she couldn't shake this bad feeling and the last thing she wanted to do was ruin a sweet moment between father and son. "I'm making your favourite dish," she said with a wink.

In the days they spent together, Dad did notice something different about Lewis. He allowed them to take pictures of him. He was camera shy from about age 10, avoiding the lens unless there was threat of bloody murder. The three idyllic days went by too quickly. Lou packed his gears to go hiking and rock climbing. She always worried about him doing these activities alone, "Why can't you go with someone?" she asked.

"Mom, we've discussed this before. I like my solitude. Look, if I'm not back in three days, call the Cavalry." To ease her mind, he gave her his destination and the routes he was taking, and assured her he had no plans to deviate from the course. He gave her a hug. She felt him stroke strands of her hair. He hadn't done this since he was five. He used to climb up on her lap when she was seated, hug her with his little legs folded at the knees under him by her sides. He'd lay his face on his mother's shoulder and stroke strands of her hair until he fell asleep.

They said "I love you" to each other when they disengaged. Then it was Dad's turn. A firm handshake and an affectionate hug brought tears in his old man, "Not you, too," Lou said teasingly, See ya in three days."

He left and they viewed the digital camera. Mom in Lou's arms; standing next to his Dad with a goofy face; pensively looking up at the night sky; sleeping in a hammock on the veranda; eating his favourite meal with a smile of approval; sprawled on the sofa while watching hockey; on Skype to his sister Cheryl. There were a dozen more.

They hadn't taken these many photos of Lou since he was a toddler. They barely had any of his teen-age years when he ducked the minute he saw a camera. Any photos they took had been taken stealthily and some had gone missing. They suspect he'd removed them from the album and destroyed them.

This time he even let them video tape him play acting. Pretending he was a horticulturalist, explaining how to plant a tree. Little did they know these would be their life-line.

Lou picked the Singhampton Side Trails for its proximity to his parents' place but also because biking and other motorised activities weren't allowed. He started out early and listened to the weather forecast on the way. He didn't trust Ontario spring. It could be bright and sunny one minute and then snowing the next. Yes, even in spring.

He arrived at his destination. Unhurried and with the surrounding beauty to himself he paused to enjoy the serenity. He sat on the hood of his car munching a bar of granola. Before him was the forested beauty of the Pretty River Valley; its mature deciduous forest especially beautiful in the Spring. In these trails, the edge of the Niagara Escarpment is cut with narrow, deep crevices, and he would clamber through the tight fissures.

When the granola bar was all chewed up, he limbered up, stretching his tight muscles to avoid muscle tear. He secured his helmet on his head, looped his ropes across his chest, checked the assortment of prussic and karabiners, and his survival kit. He remembered something else, a book. He folded this in half and made room for it in his cramped backpack.

He started up the path towards crevice caves, open to the sky. These were created when huge blocks broke away from the cliff face. Mosses and liverworts form a moist green carpet on the crevice walls, it was said that 27 species of fern have been recorded within this small area. They all looked the same to him. The blue-blazed Standing Rock Side Trail heads down the Escarpment to a rock pillar, isolated 80 m north of the edge, a testament to the powers of erosion over eons.

He scaled up one of the highest rocks and sat on top of it. He surveyed the wondrous beauty of nature and breath in fresh air. He took the book out, "A Contemplative Life" by Joel S. Goldsmith. For him it was not an unusual choice, for he had been thinking of another calling. One he had not mentioned to anyone, lest of all Spike. Not that his friend wouldn't understand or wouldn't be supportive. He, Lewis Young, just needed to be sure. It would be a life-long commitment and just how committed he was he needed to know.

He read and meditated. Then the shifting shadows told him it was time to head back to his car. Darkness in this place descended quickly. And he didn't want to spend the night in the caves, not if he didn't need to. He moved carefully among the rock debris as he followed the blazes. The Singhampton Side Trail at its eastern end would connected him back to the main Trail, he would then head west on the main trail to return to his car.

He was going to sleep in his car tonight. Tomorrow he would do the Bruce Trail, the oldest and longest marked hiking trail in Canada. It is 840 km long, with over 440 km of side trails. One day, before he was too old and his knees got too buggered he'd do all of its 840 km. But tomorrow, he'll do just enough to cover a day.

When darkness came, and the strange sounds and shifting shadows of the forest gave anyone unfamiliar with it the creeps, Lewis went to sleep peacefully. He was at peace with himself.

Morning came, shafts of light shone on the car, as if to say he was a preferred guest. He opened his eyes, climbed out to stretch his cramped muscles. The sun was out but it was still chilly. He debated with himself if he should wait until it was warmer. Wait for warmth won the debate.

He did more of the same. Hiking, climbing, squeezing into tight fissures, more climbing and when he reached a site where he could survey the panoramic beauty of the forest he paused to read and meditate. He didn't bring any food, except for the two granola bars he consumed in the mornings, the fasting was meant to connect him with God, with whom he wished to commune. Water was his only sustenance.

The second day of his solitude came to an end, it was time to drive back home.

His mother was waiting on the porch, knitting to pass the time. She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the car engine, _What's with her_, he thought. They ambled back inside the house arm in arm, he knew he stunk she didn't mind at all.

"Dinner?"

"After shower," he replied. She went to prepare his dinner, glad he was home. She left him to enjoy his meal content to occasionally eye him from the living room. She and her husband were meant to be watching "Canada's Got Talent" but she'd rather be watching someone else.

Lewis dinner was interrupted when his phone bellowed, "Hot call." He sighed, "Did I not tell you not to call?"

"Why? You don't like Winnie's voice. I'll tell her that."

"Don't you dare!" Spike Scarlatti laughed his head off.

"What's so important you had to call?"

And Spike said, "Knock, knock." Lou groaned loudly, "You called for a knock, knock joke." He was in a state of disbelief, hanged up and switched off the cell phone. Then, the house phone rang!

"Mom, if that's Spike I'm not home." Mr and Mrs Y laughed.


	22. Too Much to Do, Too Little Time

_Author's Note: Lines were borrowed from the movie, "Zoolander." There was no intention to impinge on copyright. It just fitted the story so I borrowed it. No monetary gain so please don't sue._

_Too Much to Do, Too Little Time_

Four days to go before the trip to Ocho Rios.

Lou departed for Toronto, he had people to see and things to do before the trip. First stop was the Community Centre. It was nine in the morning but the place was already packed to the rafters. Bro Joseph was in busy as a bee. Lewis smiled, "What's with all the kids?"

"Where have ya been hidin'? It's spring break. The holiday programme started Monday."

The Community Centre offered vacation care and holiday programme for at-risk kids. When school was out, and the parents had to go to work, the kids were often left at home, bored out of their brains and getting into mischief. Two years ago, they piloted this programme. The centre offered arts classes, a safe place to play video games, billiards, learn crafts and do sporty stuff. Volunteers organise free lunch. Money was always short so they asked local businesses to donate goods.

They met for a couple hours before lunch to talk shop. What the Centre needed and how he could help. Then, Bro Joseph wanted to know if he was attending Friday night's dinner in his honour. Lewis was picked "Volunteer of the Year" by the kids themselves.

"You gotta be there. Many donors will be attending, they wanna meet you," encouraged the young religious. Lewis made a face, "You can ask me anything but that! I can't do that!"

"Why?" The Jesuit brother looked at him puzzled. "I can write your speech. You just gotta read it."

"Nope, can't do that!"

"What the hell?"

"What? You're swearing now," said Lou.

The Jesuit's eyes twinkled mischievously, "Hey, I promised a lot of things ok but I didn't promise not to swear. Come on, Anna and Ange are waiting... they're preparing lunch." The two walked towards the canteen. Their eyes widened, the counter top was laden with food mainly Italian fare. "You expecting a legion of angels?" asked Bro Joseph, "Sorry to disappoint you, it's just the two of us."

The twins smiled widely when she saw Lou, "Hello stranger." They gave him a warm welcome before asking if he could help serve lunch. "Over there," said Anna pointing to a small table, "is ours. The rest we gotta take out there."

He started bringing food out when he heard a familiar voice behind him, "Can I help?" It was Derek Medeiros. "Hey, good to see ya." His hands full, he simply pointed with his chin, "More over there, bring it out here."

When the kids started to tuck into food, Bro Joseph, Lou, Anna and Angelina sat at the table in the canteen, Lou paused, "Can we one more at the table?" Anna stood to get one more plate and some cutlery while Lou looked for Derek.

"Buddy, come join us."

The lunch was hearty and the conversation flowed like river of wine: smooth and pleasant. Derek mentioned he asked three interns if they'd be interested to offer a free Saturday morning clinic for moms and bubs, "They're keen. They'll call you Bro Joseph to arrange it."

Lou spent the rest of the day at the Centre and led two dance classes. Mainly hip hop. When he first brought it up, it came as a surprise even to Bro Joseph. _He was way too quiet, but he liked hip hop_. If he had to guess, he would have thought ballroom dancing. _Such is the irony of life_.

At the end of the day, Lou went home to find Spike had been camping in his apartment. "_What the hell?"_ He really didn't mind because at least his friend was tidy. He called Spike to rouse on him, "You're always welcome buddy but you should ask permission first."

Spike was puzzled, "I did call you, I said knock knock, you hang up on me." _Oh God_, he thought. Then he started laughing.

"Are you comin tonight?"

"Yeah, can I crash til we go?" The techie sounded tentative perhaps worried he might overstay his welcome. But there wasn't anything to worry about. "No problem. But you're in charge of food."

"Sweet. Shift ending in a couple of hours. I'm getting Thai food. You get a movie."

"Done deal."

They ate dinner in front of the television watching "Die Hard" starring Bruce Willis. Lou intended to watch the whole series which was fine except Spike had to go to work the next day. They both fell asleep anyway despite the intention, the white noise emitting from the TV set lulling them to sweet slumber . Spike slept like a baby inside his sleeping bag, while Lewis slept on the couch, his long legs draped over the arm of the sofa, covered in thick doona.

Morning came, over breakfast Spike asked Lou what he planned for the day. "Clean my apartment," he said, "I've gotta sort my stuff. I've got lots of stuff I should have donated ages ago." Then he mentioned Friday's dinner and the meritorious award for being "Volunteer of the year".

"Nice, buddy. What will you wear? Penguin suit?"

"I don't wanna go."

"You should go," then Spike had an idea, "We should go... when they call your name. I'll go up to get the award. Yeah, yeah, that's a good trick." He was excited. "Most people don't know you, right?" He didn't know what came over him because he agreed to the silly idea.

Spike gleefully rubbed his hands together, "Ok, Friday night. Good, good! I'm on morning shift through the week."

The instant the Italian left, he went through the motion of tidying his apartment. He started with the closet, culled his wardrobe and filled up two suitcases. Then he went through his music collection. Spike ripped the songs into his laptop and copied them to his Ipod so he didn't feel the need to hoard the CDs. He placed these in the donation box, too.

He went through his kitchen cupboard and found a whole heap of unused cutleries and utensils.

Next, he went through his book shelf. He kept the ones he knew he'd read again given the chance, the rest went into the donation box.

The garage beckoned to him next. This was where he stored his sporting paraphernalia. He couldn't believe how much he had accumulated. _Three hockey sticks. Four footballs. Five pairs of boxing gloves. Six bicycle helmets. What was I thinking? _

He boxed everything he didn't need or didn't want, carried these to his car, altogether it took three car trips to his local Salvation Army's second-hand store. They were delighted to receive them. It was late in the afternoon by the time he finished. He looked at his apartment and was pleased at the result. It was nearly empty, that's just the way he liked it.

Day seven was coming to a close. Spike called to say he was going home to his place before his mother called for intervention. "Ok," he said "Give my love to Mom."

Tomorrow, day eight of his holiday, he would catch up with old high school friends for lunch. Then, there was Friday's dinner to attend to.

Lunch went swimmingly well. Six friends came. They regaled him with stories, and he listened patiently. Everyone knew what he did for a living. But none knew he was SRU. The anonymity was important to him, it gave him a cloak of invisibility. The long lunch ended with everyone promising to catch up again and not to leave it too long between drinks.

Spike came over at the end of shift. They showered and changed into black tie, "I don't like wearing ties," Lou said. "I feel like a museum exhibit."

"What about a bow tie?"

"Nah."

After much ahhing and umming, they decided not to wear ties. They chose to wear long scarves over their suits, draped around their necks. They looked every inch a male model, Spike eyed Lewis from head to foot, and quoted from one of their all-time favourite movie, Zoolander, "I friggin worship you, man."

Not to be out done, Lewis replied, "Have you ever wondered if there was more to life, other than being really, really, ridiculously good looking?" At this point, they lost it. They were in tears laughing and quoting from the movie, back and forth like two silly kids.

When they arrived at the Centre, they found it had morphed into a fairly decent venue. The place lovingly decorated with fresh flowers donated from the market. Bro Joseph explained that the kids spend all day cleaning, making flower arrangements, helping with food preparation and setting the tables and chairs. "They made the evening possible."

Guests started arriving at around 7:30pm, the City Mayor attended. After dinner was served, Bro Joseph introduced the City Alderman who was going to announce the "Volunteer of the Year Award". When Lou's name was called, Spike stood to receive his award much to Bro Joseph's chagrin.

The City Mayor congratulated Spike but he wasn't fooled, the Techie had been to his office several times to check into City Hall security. "What are you up to, Scarlatti?" he whispered. The SRU officer just smiled.

When the clapping stopped, Spike looked at the audience, "Before you get carried away, I'm not Lewis Young. I'm in fact better looking than him but he's altogether a better human being than me or anyone else I've ever known."

He paused and looked directly at Lewis, "Buddy, this world is a whole heap better with you in it. As a friend you've taught me a lot about myself, about life, about living, about compassion. There's not one child in this Centre whose life you haven't touched."

Lewis looked down, he felt blood rushed to his head and turned a shade red, not easy to do when one had dark brown complexion. Spike continued, "Lou, you're not just volunteer of the year, you're a life-line for me and many others. On behalf of everyone here, I thank you."

Spike left the podium to a rousing sound of applause. All eyes followed him as he handed the award to Lewis Young. Lou stood to accept the award and hugged his friend.

"Thanks," he said.

Spike couldn't help himself, he whispered, "cause at the Lewis Young Center For Kids Who Can't Read Good And Wanna Learn To Do Other Stuff Good Too, we teach you that there's more to life than just being really, really, really good looking." Lewis laughed and forgot his embarrassment.


	23. Goosey, Goosey It's all Cosy

**Goosey, Goosey; It's all Cosy**

Tomorrow, the dynamic duo departs for their well-deserved holiday to Ocho Rios, Jamaica. Westjet - scheduled to depart at 10:15 am. They had packed their gears; both were light travellers. Since its forever summer where they were going, they packed mainly T-shirts and shorts, underwear, socks and toiletries. No fuss. No frills. Everything they needed fitted in their holdall.

They anticipated nothing but five days of bliss. No sticky situations, no frantic calls, no hair-raising incidence. It would just be total enjoyment of the sand, surf and sea.

Meantime, they both looked forward to a night at the Goose.

Everyone came ready to give Spike and Lou a hard time. "Whose payin for the first round?" Ed inquired.

"Lou," said Spike, "He's Volunteer of the Year so he's volunteering to pay for the first round." The Jamaican just smiled and mused that there would be time enough between tonight and tomorrow morning to strangle the Italian.

"Ok," they whooped it up and ordered their drinks and some things to munch.

"So, Lou… what's the plan?" Jules was eager to know what he had lined up in as much as he was the chief organiser. Swirling a beer bottle in his hand he replied, "We agreed not to do what we do here, so no books for Spike. We'll windsurf, kitesurf, scuba dive, fly in a heli, learn reggae, play beach soccer, get a tan. Spike desperately needs it. He's pale as a ghost." Spike punched him in the arm, "Hey, not my fault I'm always in the Truck."

Wordy couldn't help it, normally very optimistic, he was not too sure about this holiday. "I think Spike will be bored after three days and you will be sorry you went on holiday with this guy. If I were you, I'd make sure to pack a roll of duct tape." They all laughed at Spike's expense who good-naturedly said he was quite capable of making up his own entertainment.

Spike paid for the second round and the topic rolled on to travel advice. Both men were not well travelled. With the exception of three trips to Italy; once as a child of 10, then as a teen-ager of 15, and as a young man of 21; Spike had not been anywhere but the length and breadth of Canada, and occasionally trips to the U.S. on assignments which didn't really count. Not when the Government only paid for you to fly in, then fly out again.

Lou didn't travel much either, until he became a top cop he didn't have much financial resources to lavish on himself. There were people to support and he just had to come last.

"Ok, guys, make sure you don't carry someone else's bag through customs… doesn't matter if she were a lady in distress," warned Wordy.

"Seriously, Wordy…. What do you think of us? Kids?" said Spike feigning hurt. He turned to his best friend, "We know that don't we, Lou?"

"I didn't," the Jamaican replied poker-faced. Spike threw a nut at him which he caught with his mouth. Everyone clapped, "Hey, that a good party trick," said Sam. Before long, everyone at the table was doing it. At the end of the evening, there were more nuts on the floor than in them.

Back on topic, Jules said, "Here's mine: Don't have unsafe sex." Spike played along and gasped theatrically, "I forgot to pack condoms."

Sam gave his two cents in after the laughter had died down, "And here's mine: seriously make sure you have lots of small bills, US$1.00 preferably." They nodded said they had read about this.

"Boss, what's your advice?" asked Jules.

Greg Parker looked serious, they waited on his words. Then he said "Don't drink anything but bottled water and I mean it."

Ed was underwhelmed, "That's it? I thought you were going to say something profound."

"Speaking of profound, what have you got to say?"

It was Ed who surprised, "Just make sure you've got each other's back."

Unrehearsed, Spike and Lou said in unison, "Always." They looked at each other and knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were brothers always.

The goosey evening had to end, two drinks was all they could imbibe without risking their ability to drive carefully. And they all have an early start, both men needed to be at the international airport by seven in the morning, the rest of them at work by six.

Lou spent the night at the Scarlatti's guest room.

They were both awake at five. Mom S was already preparing breakfast for four, Spike's Dad was joining them for the morning meal. Although the older Scarlatti was aloof, he considered Lou close family. Breakfast was civil, polite and pleasant. The conversation was subdued.

Spike couldn't help but think that if this was taking place at the Young's residence, breakfast would be engaging, boisterous, fun. _When did we become so quiet?_ He missed the loud banter and the quick witted repartee he used to have with his father. He sighed inwardly.

The time came to leave. Lewis hugged Mom S and kissed her on the cheek. "Take care," she said. Then it was Spike's turn to show affection to his mother. He adored her very much.

When Lewis came face-to-face with Dad S, he didn't hesitate to hug the old man, he whispered, "I'll take care of Mike." He never used "Spike" when speaking to Dad S, it was a nickname bestowed to his son by others. It's alien to him. His son was baptised Michaelangelo and he was always Mike or Mikey to him. Spike was for others to use.

The older Italian beamed and felt at peace, for as long as Lou was around, his son would be safe. Then it was Spike's turn to embrace his Dad. They hugged warmly, and then the father blessed the son, "Dio sai con te." _God be with you_.

"Ti amo, Papa." The old man teared up, it's been a long time between hugs, _if only I could let go of my fears_.

They got to the airport excited as two little kids. They checked in. Spike used his charm to be let in to the VIP lounge so they would wait in luxury while waiting for boarding. "How did you do that?" asked Lou.

"I made friends when we were here last, remember the serial killer we had to escort out of here. When you guys were busy mopping up the op, I was making friends." He said proud as punch with himself. Lou was gobsmacked, _He never ceases to amaze me_.


	24. The Time of their Lives

**The Time of their Lives**

They heard the boarding call. Lewis dialled his parents' phone, "Hey, Mom… no… no problem. Just calling to say I love you. Say hello to Dad. Ok, bye."

They found their seats, next to the emergency exit. It offered the best leg room which was good for Lou whose legs went forever. The flight would be close to four hours, give or take. Lou was light out as soon as the plane took off. Spike looked over at his friend, took something out of his holdall and placed it on his friend's chest. It was a hotel sign, "Do not disturb."

A strawberry-blonde flight attendant happened to be passing down the aisle, caught Spike's eyes and giggled when the Italian put a finger on his lips and said "Ssh." When the plane was cruising at altitude, he hastily turned on his phone and took a photo of the sleeping Lou with a sign on his chest; uploaded it to Team One's PDA, with a caption "Best view ever."

"Remind me not to go on holiday with Spike," said Sam.

After an hour, Spike was bored. He looked at his friend, and was very, very, very tempted to wake him. But he knew not to disturb a sleeping giant. He shouldn't have agreed to this "no book" rule. He was annoyed that the no frills airline didn't offer enough entertainment.

Wordy was right, Spike was a little ADHD, a little antsy pantsy. He glanced behind him, saw a boy of about ten playing Nintendo. _Cool_. "What game are you playing?" The blue-eyed, curly blonde-haired kid didn't appear to hear him. He was about turn back when the pretty young mother answered, "Sorry, he has selective hearing disease."

He smiled back and said, "I understand. I used to be the same."

Another flight attendant passed by, a brunette stunner. Spike inquired if there was a book available to read. She said someone left a book behind from an earlier flight. She brought it to him, a legal mystery thriller by John Grisham, his 2009 blockbuster, The Associate. _Nice_. "Thanks."

He checked his time-piece. _Three hours before landing_. He sized up the book, checked the number of pages_, Nice_. He calculated he would be through reading it before the plane landed. And he was.

He thanked the flight attendant, "Have you read it yourself?"

"No," she said.

"I recommend it. It's a cracker of a book," he flashed a dimpled smile which instantly caused her heart to flutter.

The pilot made the announcement for passengers to put their seatbelt on, they would soon be landing. Lou opened his eyes, looked down on his chest and knew instantly he's been punk'ed. He took the sign off his chest and hit Spike's head with it before he could duck for cover. "You're too violent," complained the Italian. Lou glowered at him, "Next time, it's my turn." _Uh, oh. Must stay vigilant_, he thought.

They disembarked at Montego Bay's Donald Sanger Airport and boarded a shuttle bus for Ocho Rios. The see-level views aboard the bus didn't disappoint. It only made them more eager to get to their destination. Two more hours before they get there, the bus was packed and with all the drop off and pick up, they'd be lucky to get to their hotel before 3 pm, local time.

"I'm hungry," moaned Lou.

"Me too."

A couple of young ladies seated in-front overheard their conversation, she looked barely out of her teens, "Hi, this is my third visit. I can definitely recommend _Mom's_. Their specialty is saltfish and achee." She didn't need to say more, Lou was sold. Saltfish and achee being his all-time favourite Jamaican food.

The other girl butted in, "But the service takes too long when it's busy. But it's definitely worth it. Cheap, too. I'm Melanie. This is my sister, Jess." Lou introduced himself and Spike.

"We're from the U.S. you guys are Canadians, right?" They nodded.

"Where are you guys staying?"

"Chrisanns," was Lou's short answer. It wasn't anything fancy but it was rated highly if TripAdvisor was to be believed. They deliberately didn't spend a whole heap of money on accommodation, preferring to spend their budget on food and activities.

Jess, the younger enthused, "We stayed there last year. You'll love it. We're staying somewhere different this time." They chatted until the girls got off the bus, "Hope to bump into you guys, again."

"Same here," they said.

When the girls got off, they looked at each other and simultaneously said, "Nah, too young." They laughed at themselves. "Ya reading my mind now?" said Spike.

The first day was nearly over by the time they reached their destination. They checked into their twin share room, and found the owner who personally met them to be hospitable. She also had encyclopedic wealth of knowledge about Ocho Rios. They inquired about _Mom's_ _Restaurant_ and were given clear instruction of how to get there but their stomach wasn't going to wait a minute longer so they went in search of the nearest eatery where a lot of locals hang.

They ate until it was criminally homicidal. A few of the locals were in disbelief. The owner thanked them for coming and said they were most welcome to come again. It was nearly six in the evening, the only activity left for them to do was to drink beer on the beach and walk off their aching muscles. Sitting too long didn't agree with their butts.

They walked for ages. An hour before midnight, their food completely digested, they went for a swim. Lou floated up on the surface of the water, his arms out on his side, letting the water bob him up and down. He stared up at the darkened sky. Counted the stars and made a wish, something he hadn't done since he was a boy. The moon cast a reflection on the water.

Spike sat on the beach watching his friend. He couldn't let him drift too far. _Don't fall asleep on me, buddy_. He focused his sight on him, following the bobbing up and down. If Lou didn't come back to shore in another 15 minutes he was going to get him.

Before deadline was up, Lou swam back to shore. It was now one in the morning, they decided to call it a day. It was going to be very busy tomorrow.

**Day two:** They woke up at seven in the morning, ate a light breakfast. They were going to dive in the morning and windsurf in the afternoon. Then there was reggae in the evening. The activities they lined up weren't for the faint-hearted but then again they couldn't do this often, not with the professions they chose; so they would pack as much punch into this holiday as humanly possible.

For the morning dive, they chose wreck diving. The Wreck of Kathryn, a 140-foot steel hull was deliberately sunk in 1991 to form an artificial reef. It sat in 50 feet of water with good visibility. The structure remained intact, offering easy access to divers who could swim into the wheel house, whilst the shallow section boasted of beautiful coral walls which almost reach the surface.

Lunch was at Mom's and it didn't disappoint. Lou made a mental note to return.

The afternoon was challenging since neither has had any experience with windsurfing. Lou got the hang of it quicker with his natural balance and flexibility. Spike managed just because he was persistent and intelligent. What he lacked in natural sporting prowess he made up for analysing what he was doing wrong and what Lou was doing right.

After four hours of getting dunked in the water and bashed about, it was time to head back. They napped for two hours then showered and changed. They were off to have dinner where they could experience pure unadulterated reggae music.

They danced with the locals, played improvised reggae on drums to the amusement of the music officionados and sampled local alcoholic beverages. It was nearly two in the morning when they dragged themselves off the venue.

**Day Three:** The sunlight streamed through the windows, the brightness unhindered by the curtains, rendering sleep-in next to impossible. They laid exhausted on the bed. Lou laughed when he noticed Spike sporting a giant black eye. "You look like you've been mugged, man."

Spike groaned, "I've got bruises all over me." He stared at the ceiling, willing himself to get excited. "What are we doin today?"

Lou smiled, "We're takin the James Bond heli tour."

"Whoa!" Instantly Michaelangelo Scarlatti was invigorated. "Bond. James Bond." Lou chucked a pillow at him. "Better get ready. They won't wait for us." That was all the motivation Spike needed. In fifteen minutes, the two no frills boys were ready to go, firing on all cylinders.

They went in search of breakfast. Found one close by. As Spike lined up at the buffet table, his eyes fell on a stunning woman. Brunette. Charcoal eyes. Slim and well-proportioned. Beautifully sculpted leg muscles. She was wearing white blouse, tucked inside a pair of khaki walking shorts. The timberland boots framed her ankles. Lou noticed and nudged him. "What's up with you?"

She must have heard because she turned around and flash a smile of recognition. "Hey, Mikey." She gravitated to him, kissed him on the cheek as she raised herself on her toes. "Hey, Bridge." They hugged like it was just yesterday yet they hadn't seen each other since high school. A good twenty years had passed.

Spike introduced Bridget to Lou and they enjoyed breakfast together.

He was eager to find out what she's been doing, "What have you been up to?"

"I've been doing wildlife research in the Amazons. And you?"

"We're keepers of the peace," he said cryptically.

"Police?" she said. They nodded.

"We go home on Friday."

"Me, too. Back to the Amazons."

They were so engaged in conversation Lou felt like an intruder, he hesitated to break them up… but they had a schedule to keep. "We're going on a James Bond heli tour, would you like to come along. It seats 4. We can all go together."

"You sure?" She didn't want to barge into their plans.

"Sure," the two said in unison. Bridget felt the bond between friends. Her eyes twinkled and said, "Ok."

They headed off to where the helicopter waited. On arrival they were offered a choice of either a flute of champagne, or a bottle of Red Stripe Beer or water to take along. They opted for the champagne and toasted each other. Spike was ecstatic, _Who would have thought_?

The first point of interest was the Dolphin cove where, on the way past, they saw dolphins in the pools. Then they flew past Rio Chico, a spectacular property; Dunn's River Falls followed; then along the coast to Laughing Waters. The tour guide explained that this short stretch of golden sand beach has a small waterfall emptying out into the Caribbean. "It's the beach where James Bond first met Honey Ryder coming out of the water in the movie Dr. No."

From there they flew past Ocho Rios to get an aerial view of Reynolds Pier, also known as James Bond Pier. The tour guide delighted them with James Bond trivia, "Recognizable to 007 Fans as Crab Key, Dr. No's evil island lair."

They flew over the historic Prospect Plantation and saw the original Great House on the hill with its spectacular view of the Caribbean. Then it was on to the historic Rio Nuevo battlefield where the British first landed in Jamaica and clashed with the Spanish in 1655.

Next was Oracabessa and Goldeneye, Ian Fleming's home, perched on the cliff top overlooking the Caribbean. "This was where he was inspired to write the Bond books. Goldeneye is the outer bank Island with James Bond Beach, which was also one of the locations used as Crab Key."

The return trip was along the spectacular northern coastline and culminated on arrival back at the helipad where they got one last look at Dr No's Lair. "This view from the ocean side is the most recognizable angle as Bond leave Crab Key by boat, one of the last scenes in Dr. No."

They thanked their tour guide and headed back to Ocho Rios by shuttle bus. This time Spike sat next to Bridget regaling her with stories, catching up on old times and reconnecting.

Lou stared out the windows, watching the views. He wasn't put out to be surplus to requirement, he was in fact delighted. He needed to make a decision… sooner or later…. should he decide to leave SRU, he was certain Spike wouldn't have to be alone. _Perhaps Bridget walked back into his life just at such a time as this. _

That was the last time he saw Spike, for the next three days his friend's world centred on Bridget. At least he called to say he was going to be held up. That brought a smile to his face.


	25. Home

_Author's Note: A huge chunk of this chapter was lifted from chapter four of the story entitled "Let Destiny Speak." In all honesty, I couldn't write this chapter any better if I tried. Please bear with me._

**Flying Home**

Three days they didn't see each other. Lou texted Spike to remind him to be back at the hotel by 1pm. Lou checked them out at 11 in the morning, and left their holdall with reception. He killed time by playing with local kids in the beach, jumping off a low cliff face.

At the appointed time, Spike bounced in happily, he looked like he'd been to paradise. There was only one thing wrong, Lou was tanned all over while he was still pale as a ghost. It didn't take a genius to guess where he had been holed up all this time.

They had to catch a shuttle bus in an hour. There was only one thing left to do: eat. They relished their last Jamaican fare and caught up over bottles of beer.

"Where's Bridget?"

"She left this morning. She's attending a conference in Toronto, then she heads back to the Amazon in a couple of weeks. She's a world class vet."

"So you were schoolmates?"

"Yeah, we've known each other since we were 10. She was my puppy love."

Soon it was time to go. They got on the shuttle bus. Both looked out the windows savouring every sight of the views to die for. At the airport, while waiting to board their plane, Lou jokingly chastised him. "You ditched me, man. This was supposed to be our bromance," Lou punched him on the shoulder.

Spike ignored the jive, "Buddy, I think I'm in love."

"You think? Man, I didn't see you for three days and you think."

It went on like this for much of the waiting, ribbing each other, mucking around like two big kids.

On the plane, Lou had him cornered, "So, did you tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Spike replied, slightly bewildered.

"Idiot, a girl needs to know where she stands. Are you gonna call her again?"

"I don't know." He really didn't. Realistically, by his deduction, it's not in the realm of the possible. He's Toronto-based while she's a jet-setting scientist. Then he added, "How do you even know if you're in love?"

Lou couldn't believe his ears, _Seriously_. "See, this is the problem with you, if there's no formula or equation you don't know what to do. You have a high IQ but low EQ."

"EQ? What's that?"

"Emotional Quotient. You have zero EQ. But seriously, I think it's because you're afraid to have your heart broken. You're one big chicken. I'm perplexed…"

"Wait. Perplexed? Man, that's a big word. Do you even know what it means?" Lou punched him again, this time he said he was going to have him arrested for bodily harm.

"Don't interrupt, I'm not finished. Your parents have a long and happy marriage. I mean it's not like you had a traumatic childhood. What are you so afraid of?"

Spike thought about it briefly. "Hah, you can talk. We're the same age and you haven't got one serious girlfriend. So what's wrong with you?"

Lou became very quiet so Spike pressed on.

"I will tell you but you have to promise to keep your trap shut, ok."

Spike replied, "No, you're not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Are you? Are you gay?"

"Idiot. I'm not gay but I've been contemplating entering the priesthood." Spike's jaw dropped. He was stunned, like a mullet that was whacked with a filleting knife.

"It's worse than I thought," he said, still disbelieving.

"I've been thinking about it for a while.

The Italian shook his head from side to side, "No, you can't join the priesthood." He looked at his friend's profile. "You're too good looking. The parishioners will be in sin. You'll be preaching on the pulpit and half the congregation will be lusting after you." Spike talked a hundred miles per minute when he's excited so Lou sssh'd him to shut him up. "Anyway, you have to keep your mouth shut, ok."

They were quiet for a bit then Spike piped up again, "Lou, you think when you become my Padre Confessor you'd be ok to do confession via skype. I don't often have time to attend Mass. Or, I can text it to you but you have to promise to delete it."

Exasperated, Lou said, "Spike, I don't know what to do with you? Stop and recite the Hail Mary 100 times."

"One hundred times? My Parish Priest only ask me for 10."

"That's because he doesn't know you."

But soon they were asleep, physical exhaustion caught up with them.

The plane landed in Toronto at nine in the evening. Spike drove them back to his house. Mom and Dad S were up waiting to welcome them home. A veritable feast had been prepared for them, just the sort they needed to satisfy their now growling stomach.

"Do you know the start of shift tomorrow?"

Spike turned on his PDA and checked the schedule, "We're on second shift. 1pm for 3pm start." SRU Teams came to work two hours ahead of schedule. First to get physically fit, and be battle ready and second to allow for the earlier shift to make it back in time.

"I'm goin home after breakfast. I'm takin my camera to develop some films. "

"Oh, take mine, too." He handed Lou a USB stick.

After the hearty Italian dinner, Spike went down the basement to sleep off his fatigue. Lou headed for the guest room.

Spike turned on his Ipod before climbing into bed, surround sound filled the room. The last song he heard before he finally went to snoozeland was "You've got a Friend" by James Taylor.


	26. It's Ok til it's Not

_Author's Note: Tissue Alert_

**It's Ok Til it's Not**

Morning came – the start of summer. Lou woke up to smell of frying bacon. He got out of bed and showered, ready to face a new day. He gathered his stuff, left a short note of thanks in Italian for Mom S. "Mille grazie, Momma" and signed it with a smiley face.

He left his holdall on the living room floor and went straight to the kitchen to help himself to coffee. He wasn't a guest anymore, more like part of the furniture. Mom S beamed upon seeing him, held his face, they kissed cheek-to-cheek.

"Hey, that's my Mom, stop molesting her."

Lou turned around, "When you stop molesting mine."

"Touche." They hugged each other.

Mom S readied the table knowing Lou had to go soon. "Mikey, go get your Pa."

"Did you enjoy your holiday?"

"Yup, did so. It was amazing…. Oh, ah… we bump into an old high school friend of Mike. Bridget."

Mrs Scarlatti lit up, "Bridget. I know her. Good Italian girl." _Uh, oh. _

At the table, Mom S asked Spike pointedly about Bridge, Dad S perked up. "I know her, bella ragazza Italiana. Are you goin to see her again?" _At last_, he thought hopefully.

Spike looked across to Lou who mouthed "Sorry" looking sheepish. "Ma, Pa… siamo solo di amici. We're just friends," he translated. Lou's eyebrows went up so he kicked him under the table.

It was a pleasant morning meal but they couldn't linger any longer. It was time to go. Dad S walked Lewis to the door, "Grazie… for looking after him. He can be a bit frivolo," he paused as if trying to remember what it was in English he was trying to say. Lewis helped him out, "Silly?" The older Italian nodded. "I'm silly, too. We look out for each other."

Lewis reached home just in time to Skype with Cheryl. He hoped she was in the office. If she was in the field doctoring then it would be impossible. He would have to wait another week; synching their schedule so they were free at the same time was always a nightmare. He silently thanked God that at least he could leave her a message on Facebook or email her if she wasn't available. But today he wanted to hear her voice.

He urgently logged in, Cheryl was at the office. "Hey, big sis, how are ya doin?" The elegant olive-skinned Cheryl Young smiled back, "I'm good… and you? Heard you went to Ocho Rios with Spike."

"That I did but actually I only saw him for two out of five days. He found someone," he said feeling a justifiable guilty pleasure to be outing Spike to his sister.

"Wow. And you? Did you find anyone?"

"Nah, you've always known where my heart is."

"That I know. Have you made a decision yet?"

"Yeah, well close. You know, sis… I think Bridget… that's the lady… walked into Spike's life so he wouldn't be alone. The guy deserves someone who can make him happy." She got the drift. He wanted to make sure his friend didn't hang out to dry by himself.

They chatted for a good while, uninterrupted. Cheryl said a certain doctor has proposed but she hasn't accepted although they're very much in love. "Why not?" he said.

"I don't know. I have a feeling I've got to return to Toronto," she sighed.

"That would be great. I want you close to us."

They both heard someone call, "Dr Young…"

She turned around. He couldn't see who it was but he knew she had to go. She turned back to face the screen to apologise, "No need. I've gotta go too. Love ya, big sis." She was momentarily speechless. He was always sweet. Lovable. Adorable. But he hasn't said "I love you" to her since they were kids. It was just always implied.

She responded back with moist eyes, "Love ya, little brother." She touched the screen with her two fingers, he did the same. She captured that moment on camera to be preserved in time forever. She just had to. They hanged up. Dr Young closed the laptop, got up to attend to the medical emergency and accidentally swiped a glass of water off the table. The glass shattered in a hundred pieces. She exhaled and felt uneasy. She said a prayer, it was all that she could do.

Nine in the morning. Lou called his parents' home. "Hey, Mom." Mom S squealed, "Hello, I was wondering when you'd call."

"Sorry, we arrived kinda late last night I didn't want to wake you up. I spoke to Cheryl…"

They talked about her and the nice young doctor they've all heard about. "Hope we meet him soon," she said.

"Where's Dad?"

"His gone to help the neighbours, do you want me to call him?"

"No, Mom, I'll speak to him later. I gotta go. Ah Mom… love ya…always."

"Love you, too, son. Always."

They ended the call. She felt heaviness in her heart she couldn't explain rationally. She said a prayer; it was all she could do. She was being ridiculous she said to herself. _I'll go walk it off later_. She was out walking and praying near the beach when the call from Lou came that fateful afternoon.

Lou hurried out of the apartment with two USB sticks and his holdall. His first stop was the local camera shop to develop the films. That took a good hour. Next, he went to the Community Centre to see Bro Joseph.

It was nearly lunch time so he invited the Jesuit to a restaurant for a change of scenery. The conversation was happy, very happy. Peppered with laughter and punctuated with a swear word or two. The hour flew fast: it was time again to head to work.

"Thank you for lunch," Bro Joseph said gratefully. "And, yeah… I hate to ask… are you closer to the truth you seek?"

"I am," he said confidently. He didn't know why he said it, but he added, "Love will find a way." It was non-sequitor but it felt good to say it. He left Bro Joseph in haste. The Jesuit followed him with his eyes, "Love will find a way," he repeated to himself. _Maybe that's a song_?

Spike was already at the Barn, telling one and all stories of their great adventure, conveniently forgetting to tell them anything about Bridget.

Jules was majorly sceptical, "_No way. Our Lou_?"

Spike replied, "_I know eh, but put him on the dance floor you'd think..."_ Lou walked in just at that moment, the Techie excitedly exclaimed, "_Hey! Happy feet_!"

Lou smiled knowingly, "_Hey. What's up_?" he said feigning ignorance.

"_You got the pictures_?"

"_Yeah_."

Spike couldn't wait. He made a beeline for Lou and took the pictures from his hands. Veteran Constable Kevin 'Wordy' Wordsworth who was following behind said the obvious, "_Jamaica!_"

"_110 degrees in the shade, check out our man here he got a bit of a tan_," he said as he rifled through the set of pictures. Lou outted him, "_This guy is fast forwarding to Bridge_t."

The only female in the Team was quick to the draw, she asked excitedly, _"Who's Bridget? Who's Bridget?_" Lou grabbed a picture of the Italian beauty and showed it to her and Sam and Wordy who commented_, "She's hot_."

"_I hadn't seen her since high school."_ Then came the bombshell from Lewis, "_And then I don't see this guy for three days."_ They all laughed out loud.

Jules teased, _"Really? You think it's the real deal?"_

And Mike or rather Spike, in a rare moment of maturity said rather poetically, "_Destiny speaks I don't ask questions."_

The day couldn't have started any better. Then the first Voip call came, a warning about a bomb. Team One deployed expecting to deal with one bomb, allegedly planted in a construction site, the future HQ of an environmental corporate criminal. Little did they know the extent by which the disgruntled, dying eco-terrorist would go to send a message. It would have far-reaching consequences.

Spike and Lou drove together, as always. "Have you caught up with Bridg yet?"

The Italian's face softened with dimpled cheeks, "Yeah, I called her this morning. She hasn't changed. She still liked the same things we liked when we were kids. Baseball. Science. Cross-word puzzle. She's as geeky as me."

"No!" Lou replied. "It's never a good thing when two geeks come together. Have you been watching 'Big Bang Theory'?" Spike laughed, "I do. We both love that show. Do you know…?" Lewis stopped him before he could start his litany of 'Do you knows..'

"Spike, I don't wanna know."

They arrived on site just as an almighty bang happened. A call came when they were knee-deep investigating the explosion. Another bomb was going to go off in an hour in the office of an accused environmental killer. There were a number of potential corporate targets so Wordy suggested, _"We'll take Sam to help handle the bomb sweeps, split the targets with the bomb techs from Team Two and Team Five_."

As it turned out, the bomb was in the building where Babycakes, the bomb sniffing robot, and Spike were. The bomb was sophisticated, motion very sensitive and to top it all off, the wires were not colour-coded. They were seriously running short of time. Lou offered to help him, _"I'm gonna come out there and give you a hand_."

Spike was quick to dissuade his understudy, "_Forget it. Rule number one of diffusion_?"

Lou replied, "_Don't blow stuff up?"_ Spike chuckled, "_Never more than one man down range. You know that."_

While he was disarming the second bomb, a third call came. A bomb was planted and scheduled to blow up in an hour at Halliwell College. It was by and large a strange target til Sargent Greg Parker explained that the College had signed a funding deal with a Think Tank with a reputation for being "_global-warming deniers_," according to Jules.

The Boss made a decision to go ahead to the new target with Lou, leaving the bomb tech to deal with the current situation. The second bomb was taking ages to diffuse and time was ticking. At one point, he had almost given up. Spike said he would simply have to leave it and let it explode. But other Team One members found the schematics, it gave him a chance to give diffusion a go.

With time ticking and many students yet to be evacuated, Lou asked to be sent in to deal with the third bomb. Spike heard him, "_No, no_" he said, "_I'll nearly done here_."

Lou insisted, "_I can handle a pair of cutters. I've seen you do it_." He added quite rightly that the job was about "_saving lives_." Reluctantly, the Boss sent him in. Then the unimaginable happened. They heard Lou's steady voice came through loud and clear over the Comm link, "_Guys_." Spike wasn't fooled, "_What is it? Lou?"_

"_I think I just stepped on a land mine_."

Spike was momentarily frozen in fear. His best friend was standing on a land mine, hell no. He told him not to move, "_Don't shift your weight_." Lou told him he knew that. And just in case there was any doubt, he said, _"Lou, I'm nearly done there. I'm coming for you_." The Boss told Spike to "_focus. We've got this_."

He kicked himself mentally. He should have just let the bloody building go. He should have. He tried to pull himself together, pushed the distraction out of his mind and focused on the job at hand. With the help of the schematics and sheer good luck he diffused the second bomb.

With time running short, Lou asked Spike to help him the diffuse the third bomb. The bomb tech agreed reluctantly. By the time he got to the scene there was just two more wires to cut. Then, it was done. Or so they hoped.

Now, there was only one thing left to do: Get Lou out of there. Bring Lou home_. We're all going home tonight_.

"_Lou you feel that trigger under your foot_?"

"_Yeah_."

"_Ok. What does it feel like, flat, a spike, or a bunch of spikes_?"

"_It's a bunch of spikes_."

"_Gotcha._" He went to the truck to retrieve a Ground Penetrating Radar. The Fearless Leader, Ed Lane asked him, "_What are you doin'_?"

"_These mines are plastic, a metal detector won't work. I'm gonna use a Ground Penetrating Radar_."

Sam Braddock, former JTF2 Commando, was horrified at the very idea, "_Spike GPR is not gonna..."_

Spike was annoyed. "_You got something better in your backpack_?" He was singularly determined, "_Coming out there, Lou_."

"_No, you can't have two men downrange, Spike_."

He continued to walk towards Lou, "_Oh, what's our fifth rule, Lou? Fifth rule is break the rules when you have to._" The boss concurred, "_He's not wrong_."

Spike said for the benefit of everyone, "_The Job's about what? Yeah. Saving lives_."

Lou knew that there was no stopping Spike now. He could be stubborn. Belligerent. Petulant. Determined. He hoped it didn't take both of them. They bantered to take their minds off the immediate danger. As it turned out there were several landmines, spaced about a foot apart. When he reached Lou, he jokingly asked what took him so long. "_Traffic_" he said.

He dug around under Lou's foot to see what it was he was standing on. Sgt Parker asked, "_Spike, what do you see?_" He didn't answer. He was gripped with uncertainty. It was bad news. The Boss called out to him again, "_Spike_?"

"It's a bounding mine. It's a CR-38." CR-38: Russian-made anti-tank. _What the hell?_

Lewis was alarmed, "_I think you should just get outta here Spike_."

"_Doesn't change a thing man, not a single thing_."

Ed Lane spoke firmly, "_Spike we gotta strategise here_."

"_Nothin' to strategize, I'm gonna diffuse the landmine and Lou's gonna walk away_."

"_Diffuse it, how?"_ The Boss was concerned, he was starting to fear the worse.

"_I'm gonna excavate around the mine and then I'm gonna render it safe_."

Then he thought he could re-pin it. He explained to Lou that land mine came with a safety. He dug around some more only to discover that the eco-terrorist had glued the hole.

Lewis tried to dissuade his friend again, "_Spike?_"

"_Shut up. I'm gettin' you outta here, we're all goin' home today_." He wasn't going home without Lou. "_I know there's a way, there's always a way,_" he said more to himself.

His time was up, Lou knew. He must say this now. _"Spike_," he said, "_You know what you should do? Take Bridget to baseball. There's a game tonight_." Then he reminisced about Ocho Rios, how felt as he floated on the water, "_like a baby_." And he talked "_coming full circle_." He wasn't making any sense. _Why are you talking about Bridget, and Ocho Rios, and being like a baby and coming full circle._

"_Water._" He said. That's it, water. He could do a weight transfer. He could try that but Lou knew it wasn't viable. It would take them both down. Sam knew it couldn't be done. Jules knew it couldn't be done. They were all hanging by a thread.

"_Spike?_" he tried again to reach his friend. But his eyes, his eyes conveyed only one thing. "_I'm not leaving you here_."

"_Ok_," he said. What else was there to say? He reminded Spike to take the bomb with him.

"_No, it's diffused. You diffused it_."

"_Spike, if the landmine goes off, the bomb would go off and it would take the whole building_."

"_That's a thought_," said the bomb tech.

"_I have my moments_."

Spike lifted the bomb to take it to the disposal truck, "_Don't go anywhere_," he said to his bosom friend.

His friend gone, he had one more thing to do. He called home. His Dad answered.

"_Dad. Mom there_?"

"She's out walking. She said she's been feelin uneasy lately."

"_Oh, yeah_?"

"Son, is there anything wrong."

"_No. Just want to say I love you guys_."

"Son, there's something wrong. I know it."

"_No, no... Everything's good. I'm just, uh... I'm just at work_."

Spike secured the bomb in the disposal truck and urged his team mates to get shields, none moved. "_Why are you all just standing there? Lets go, I said we need a shield, we need water okay. We're going to do a weight transfer!"_

Then he heard his friend's voice again, _"Spike."_

"_Yeah buddy? Lou?"_

"_It's gonna be okay_."

"_Lou_?"

He had to do it. Lewis Young lifted his foot off the landmine.

The explosion was deafening. Spike fell on his knees, collapsed in a heap of despair. They stood around helplessly, unable to fully absorb what they just witnessed. Sam left in utter, utter frustration. _Fuck_, he kept thinking over and over again.

Mom stopped walking, she looked at the horizon. It was red. Bright red, like it was splashed with blood. She clutched her chest and prayed for mercy.


	27. Love Will Find a Way

_Author's Note: Thank you Disney for the beautiful song "Love Will Find a Way." I borrowed it because it fitted the story._

**Love Will Find a Way**

He didn't know how he made it through that evening. He remembered being cradled in Greg's arms as he wept on concrete ground. He vaguely recalled being bodily lifted by Sam and Wordy to HQ and led to the shower. He remembered weeping on the tiled floor inside the cubicle, thinking he wanted to drown. Greg stayed around, waiting for him to be all cried out. He remembered the pain; excruciating and seemingly bottomless, unending.

Veterans Ed Lane and Kevin Wordsworth didn't have time to grieve. Not yet, not now. The Boss was preoccupied looking after one of their own so everything else fell on their battle-wearied shoulders. There were things to do, people to see, things to organise. They would have to wait until some days to process their own sorrow. Right now, the Team came first.

Commander Holleran was called out of a meeting. He had lost count of the number of people he has lost in his 10 years on the job. But each death still hit him like the first. He called his press liaison, "Make sure his name's not broadcast until his family has been told." Only then did he braced himself to make the call.

Jules went up to the roof. Where else would she go but the place that bore the most memories she held of Lou. Sam followed. When he found her, she was crumpled in a heap. He knelt beside her and lifted her up to his chest like a rag doll, "I can't breathe, I can't breathe" she said over and over. He rocked her gently, until he too was crying.

There wasn't anything to say, nothing that could ease the pain. Instead he turned her around to face him, "Jules, look at me. Look at me." He placed her hands on his chest, his eyes held hers, "Now inhale, exhale," he said. They breathe in and out together til calm descended upon them.

Two uniformed Officers were sent to the Young's residence to deliver the news to Lou's parents. They were still there providing support and comfort when Commander Holleran rang to offer his condolences.

Spike was all cried out when he left the shower. He dressed by automaton, next thing he knew Greg was behind him, "Ready?" He nodded numbly, unable to speak. "I'm taking you home." He nodded again. Neither spoke another word. What was there to say? When they reached his home, Spike turned to Greg and said, "I'm so sorry." Then he wept, as a child weeps.

He heard Greg say, "Spike, you have nothing to be sorry about." The Boss reached over to touch his shoulder and prompted a fresh wave of uncontrollable sobbing. They sat in the car until he was again all cried out. He dried his tears with the sleeve of his shirt, smiled sadly at his Boss and climbed out.

His mother was preparing a meal in the kitchen when he walked in. He didn't need to speak, she knew something really bad happened, she just didn't how bad it was. The television news said a police officer died, she didn't know it was Lewis Young until Greg Parker came asking for Spike two days later. She was stunned by the news, her first thought was, "Oh... mio Dio, Mikey."

It was worse for her husband for it brought home the reality of death; compounded by irrational fear for his son now that the one who had his back was gone. He despaired and mourned in his own way. His fears heightened, he begged for him to quit policing. _"Today your friend dies. Tomorrow, my son dies_." In his ever worsening mental and physical state, it was the logical outcome: the one who had your back was gone, now it's your turn. He decided, perhaps unwittingly, to mourn his son so he didn't have to do it all later when the inevitable happens. It was the point where the fracture became a break. So Spike mourned not one but two people he loved.

Bridget learned of it a few days later, "I'm so sorry," she said. "Thanks," he said. She sensed a distance; an emotional distance. A distance so far it couldn't be bridged; so deep one couldn't tunnel under it; so high it couldn't be scaled. It didn't take a genius to know why. Ocho Rios was their holiday, their memories to create but by some god-forsaken design there she was… in the way of two brothers. The last thing she said to him was, "Mike, take care." And again he said, "Thanks."

She could only hope that time would bring healing to both of them.

Cheryl came home as soon as she heard. It took several days, Somaliland not being the most convenient place on earth to be stranded in an emergency. She arrived home just in time to make it to Lou's funeral service.

Bro Joseph opened the Community Centre for the wake. Lou wouldn't have it any other way. His religion was people. His chapel was this centre. His life's work was here.

On the appointed day, the people gathered to honour the man and say farewell to a friend. His parents and sister sat together, a picture of solidarity and strength. Team One and everyone at SRU not on duty came to say goodbye, dressed in their uniform. Mrs Scarlatti came supported by close family friends. Bridget came to pay her respect but kept her distance, it was the least she could do.

Several people delivered eulogies which were funny and sad and moving. But the people who stole their hearts were the little ones he taught to dance. They performed a couple of choreographies he taught them as a tribute for the time he gave.

The service ended with a hundred sweet voices singing "Love Will Find a Way." There wasn't a dry eye as they joined the choir of little people singing what was a fitting tribute to their Hero and a Gentleman.

_In a perfect world_

_One we've never known_

_We would never need to face the world alone_

_They can have the world_

_We'll create our own_

_I may not be brave or strong or smart_

_But somewhere in my secret heart_

_I know_

_Love will find a way_

_Anywhere I go_

_I'm home_

_If you are there beside me_

_Like dark turning into day_

_Somehow we'll come through_

_Now that I've found you_

_Love will find a way_

_I was so afraid_

_Now I realize_

_Love is never wrong_

_And so it never dies_

_There's a perfect world_

_Shining in your eyes_

_And if only they could feel it too_

_The happiness I feel with you_

_They'd know_

_Love will find a way_

_Anywhere we go_

_We're home_

_If we are there together_

_Like dark turning into day_

_Somehow we'll come through_

_Now that I've found you_

_Love will find a way_

_I know love will find a way_

Lou's photographs flashed on the big screen, looking very much alive.


	28. Last Will and Testament

A_uthor's Note: Spike-Bridget's story continued in the stories "Let Destiny Speak" and "A Pleasant Surprise." If you haven't read these, I recommend you do. If you have, I hoped this story enriched your understanding of their deep and wonderful friendship. _

_I borrowed the song "Bridge Over Troubled Water" because it fitted the story. I don't own it so I'd like to publicly thank Simon and Garfunkel for this everlasting gift to the world. I changed one word of the lyrics to suit my story. Please don't sue._

**Last Will and Testament**

A month passed. Every single day they tried to muster their best to move on though struggling with an emotional limp. Someone had to be the crutch for the limping, walking wounded, that was Cheryl. She took time off from the Red Cross to mend broken hearts and spirits at home, and to attend to the mundane affairs of wrapping up Lewis' estate. She said to herself stoically, _It had to be done, sooner or later_.

Lewis appointed her the Executor and Trustee of his Last Will and Testament. Opening the envelope was gut wrenching, she didn't know just how badly she would feel until her stomach heaved. She rushed to the bathroom to vomit. Her knees folded underneath her as the space around her swirled. She hunched down on the toilet seat. Her Mom heard the toilet door slam, in an instant she was in there with her to give comfort, "Sweetheart, you don't have to do it now."

She was a little girl again. The girl who cried in the crook of her mother's arm when she fell down and hurt herself. They leaned back on the wall and held each other's hand, that alone was sufficient to assuage her overwhelming sorrow. .Cheryl turned to her Mom, touched her gentle face. A face that reminds her of Lewis' handsome face. They have the same lovely sculpted face, the same brown complexion.

Mom whispered encouragement to her, "It's gonna be ok." She heard herself say, "Yeah, I know" but only half believing it. They sat there until she could trust herself to get back up without the wobbles. "It's ok Mom, I've gotta do it. I might as well start now. Or it will just get harder."

Reading his Will crystallised the fact that he would not be walking through the door anymore. Not ever. She steeled herself. Read it through once over. When she was done reading she clutched the document to her chest, closed her eyes and sighed, _He remembered everyone_.

Lewis' life insurance made sure his parents and herself need not worry about every day living expenses. He left a chunk of his estate to the Community Centre and other charities he supported. And to Spike, he left his DVD collection because as he wrote in his Last will and Testament that "_In the event that I predeceased Michaelangelo Scarlatti, he had to go on laughing_."

She went through the motion of calling the insurance company to make the claim, to her surprise it was straight-forward. She was advised what documents to submit and given a time-frame by which all could be resolved. That was the easy bit, Spike would be another matter altogether.

Spike's phone jiggled in his pocket, it was from a private number. _It better not be a telemarketer_. He answered in an unfamiliar curt manner, "Who's this?"

"Hey, it's Cheryl."

He was instantly apologetic, "Sorry, it came up as a private number, I thought..."

"Hey, don't apologise. How are you?"

"I'm ok. And you?"

"We're ok. Um...ah... I need your help."

"Anything."

"I need to clear Lewis' apartment... could you...?" She didn't finish the sentence, "I'm free tomorrow," he said.

"Ok, tomorrow. I'll see you there at two."

Cheryl contacted Bro Joseph and ask for a sign to be put up: FREE household items, take what you need. She explained, "The apartment has to be cleared out by 2pm tomorrow, is that possible?"

"Oh yes. Many of our clients are refugees who have arrived here with nothing. But I think it's best we bring these items here at the Centre. If more people queued up at the apartment than there were free things available, we might start a riot." She laughed softly, _Why didn't I think of that?_

"Ah, ok... would you organise a removalist?"

"Oh, leave that to me, I'll have a crew there by ten."

"Thanks. You've been a rock"

"A pebble compared to your family." Cheryl thanked him again and said they would be visiting sometime.

The next morning, true to his word, Bro Joseph sent a crew. They packed everything of Lou's except the DVDs, photographs and personal computer. When the packing crew left she surveyed the empty space and wept. She could hear his voice; singing, laughing, joking about. She could still sense his footsteps on the board.

An hour to go before Spike arrives, she used this time to gather the photographs, lovingly wrapping the ones framed on the walls and those sitting on the mantelpiece. She boxed them and waited.

She heard the knock, opened the door and came face-to-face with Spike, "Hey, come in." He walked in, didn't even noticed that the apartment was now just a void. They hugged each other warmly, giving and receiving comfort to each other by osmosis.

After they disengaged, Spike looked around, "It's empty," he said. "I hope you didn't..."

"No, I didn't." She pulled him to the centre of what used to be the living room, she pulled him down with her as she squatted on the floor. She rubbed his calloused and scarred hands, smiled up at him and said, "Lou left his DVD collection for you. He said that in case he predeceased you, he need to go on laughing."

A thought flashed in his mind_, This must be a freaking joke_. Cheryl saw the changed in his countenance, "Don't take it badly. More often than not, Lou could see what we couldn't. Take them, leave them in the box... but take them."

He didn't understand any of it but Cheryl was asking so he nodded lamely. Perhaps when no one's looking, he could ditch the freaking DVDs.

They sat there for awhile till Spike found the courage to unburden himself, "Che, did Lou tell you I ditched him in Ocho Rios?" he asked sobbing. "I ditched him because I'm selfish and too self-serving."

_Oh my God._

Cheryl cupped his face, "Look at me... No, he didn't. But he told me he was glad Bridget came back into your life at such a time, he didn't want you to be alone... he was close to making a decision. He wanted you to be with her."

He didn't know crippling pain til that moment, _Will this ever end?_

He wailed, "Ahhh." He leant forward, his head on the floor, sobbing. He felt Cheryl gently stroking his hair, and heard a melody so touching it opened a floodgate of tears. She sang to him,

_When you're weary  
Feeling small  
When tears are in your eyes  
I will dry them all_

_I'm on your side_  
_When times get rough_  
_And friends just can't be found_  
_Like a bridge over troubled water_  
_I will lay me down_  
_Like a bridge over troubled water_  
_I will lay me down_

_When you're down and out_  
_When you're on the street_  
_When evening falls so hard_  
_I will comfort you_  
_I'll take your part_

_When darkness comes  
And pain is all around  
Like a bridge over troubled water  
I will lay me down  
Like a bridge over troubled water  
I will lay me down_

_Sail on Silver Boy,_  
_Sail on by_  
_Your time has come to shine_  
_All your dreams are on their way_

_See how they shine_  
_If you need a friend_  
_I'm sailing right behind_  
_Like a bridge over troubled water_  
_I will ease your mind_  
_Like a bridge over troubled water_  
_I will ease your mind_

They stayed there until they were ready to let go, when they locked the door to Lewis' apartment for the last time, Cheryl turned to him, "Don't be a stranger, we have lost Lou, we don't want to lose you, too."

He nodded. "You'll see me around," he said. "Can I take you home?"

"It's ok, I've got my car. Please come visit."

"I will."

Spike carried the boxes for Cheryl. Waved her goodbye. Then he loaded Lou's DVDs to the boot of his car. He stared at it for a good minute, undecided whether it was even a good idea to take it home. He slammed the boot shut and decided to ignore it until he couldn't.

He sat immobile in his car. He could email Bridget. Send her a postcard. Poke her on Facebook. But it seemed pointless. _She's in the Amazon and I'm here_. He drove away but he knew he couldn't drive from his pain. _Will I ever laugh again?_


	29. I See What You See

_Author's Note: Leah Kearns was a firefighter when she joined SRU. In my mind, she was an ex-firie who changed professions and became a cop. To gain entry into elite police force, one must have served as a regular copper for at least three years. _

**I See What You See**

Life went on. Lou's passing didn't stop the earth revolving around the sun. It didn't halt the ebb and flow of the ocean. It didn't put their lives on pause. Life went on; it just shone a little bit less bright. The colours of life were still there but the hue was slightly muted.

SRU replaced Lou with a well-trained street cop who was also a well-trained ex-firie. He didn't like her in the beginning, even resented her. But he was put to shame again, when in spite of the cold reception she received, she had the thoughtfulness to do something special. She gave them each a commemorative bracelet to honour Lou. From that point on, his attitude softened towards her.

Leah became his rapelling partner. They were checking the gears on the roof after a practice session, "Permission to ask questions," she said. His brown eyes probed hers. He shrugged, "Ok, what would you like to know?"

"What was Lou like?"

To his surprise he told her and he told her stories of things they've done, and things they've said. Before he knew it, they were laughing their heads off.

"So good to hear you laugh," she said. "You have a beautiful smile. And those dimples…. lady killers, man." He sensed himself stiffened, then forced himself to relax. "Thanks," he replied shyly.

That night, he opened the boot of his car and retrieved the box of DVDs. There must be over a hundred, most of them action, comedy and Disney and Pixar films; and a whole heap of tear-jerkers; a result of a prank that became an on-going contest on who could find the teariest movie.

He found what he was looking for, "Happy Feet."

He played it, the only accompaniment being cold beer. He sang along, and laughed and giggled at certain parts. He felt happy, he hasn't been this happy for a while. When the movie ended, he put "The Lion King" on.

He laughed at certain parts, cheered on certain parts and cried when one song came on, "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" When the song ended, he raised his beer and toasted his friend, "I do, brother," he said. "I feel the love tonight."

He went to bed feeling as if parts of him were being slowly put together. Not with glue or masking tape but with the thought that someone was always watching over him. He slept well for the first time in months.

He awoke to see a leaf fall to the ground from his basement window. Summer was now coming to a close. _It's now or never_. He readied himself to hike the Bruce Trail, the one thing Lou wanted to do but didn't get the chance. He would hike it today and would go as far as he could in the time he had available.

"Buon giorno, Ma." He planted a smacking kiss on her forehead. "I'm hiking Bruce Trail today so I won't be home for three days, ok Ma?"

"You do that… but you eat first. I'll pack you some food." He laughed. He went in search of his backpack. "I'm taking only what would fit in here. Any surplus will go to the bin, ok?" She waved her hands, not that his instruction counted for anything.

He ate his breakfast and loaded his gear, and a book. When he went to collect his back pack, there were two baskets in addition to it. _What the hell?_ He sighed, no point arguing with an Italian mother_. I'll just have to repack later_. He took all of them to his mother's delight.

"Where's Pa?"

"In the bedroom." He puffed his cheeks and blew some air out, "Right, I'll load these in the car…" When he returned, he knocked on the bedroom door, "Pa, I'm gonna be away for three days. Ti amo, Pa." His father didn't move on iota; it was easier not to. Spike stayed awhile at the foot of his bed hoping he would at least glance up. "Ok, Pa. Take care," he said as he shuffled silently out of the room.

Mom was defensive, "Mikey, he's sick…"

"I know, Ma. I know." He kissed her again and then went his way.

He stopped at Mom and Dad Y, luckily Cheryl was home so the visit was epic.

Three months on they were all still grieving, but mostly accepting of their loss now. They oscillated backward and forward between being angry, depressed and accepting. But at least they were all passed the denial stage. It really couldn't be denied anymore.

"What are you up to?" Cheryl asked.

"I'm hiking the Bruce Trail for a couple of days."

"Wow, that's an undertaking. And from someone who didn't care about the woods not so long ago. Who would have thought?"

"I know right," he said happily. "Recently we had to rescue a young woman abducted by a man who thought she was his daughter. We had to chase them through the woods and I was right at home." It was a proud moment for him.

Cheryl led him to the dining table. Before he could blink, it was laden with food. They all joined him at the table. Dad pulled a chair next to him, and opened a map of the Bruce Trail, "Do you know, depending on your physical ability and the distances you plan to travel each day, it can take anywhere from 30 days to 60 years to complete the 885 km of main Trail?"

Spike's eyes grew big and wide, "Really?"

Cheryl was surprised, "Don't tell me you didn't Google it first."

"No, I just knew Lou wanted to do it one day – all of it."

They all laughed at his naiveté, "You obviously didn't know how much of a hiker and climber Lou was," said Mom.

"He didn't talk about it much," he said in his defense. "Oh, he talked about it with Jules."

Anyway Dad Y offered up, "To give you a general idea, if you hiked 8 hours a day (approx. 30km) it would take 30 days to complete the Trail end-to-end. The terrain can be very challenging and finding the overnight accommodations takes some planning. So did you book a place for your overnighter?"

"Nope…. I'm sleeping in my sleeping bag and a tent."

"It's coming to fall. I don't think you should do that and not alone."

Mom Y brightened up, "Why don't you stay here overnight and then do a day trip to Bruce Trail?" She reached out to squeeze his hand, added, "Spike, you only need to climb one mountain at a time." He understood the double meaning and replied, "Good idea."

On the day he hiked, he reached the point at the top of the ridge where he could survey the spectacular beauty of God's handiwork. The sun came out of hiding for a moment behind the clouds and cast its brilliance upon the thousands upon thousands of trees. Summer was at a close, nipping at its heels was fall. Some leaves from deciduous trees have started to rain down – a sight to behold.

He whispered, "I see what you see."

On the way down, as darkness loomed, he heard the whistling wind, it gave him a shaky feeling, he still wasn't as comfortable in the woods as his friend was, so he said, "Walk with me, bro." And then he felt peace.

It's going to be a long way drive home… and much longer drive through life. But, _It's gonna be ok._

The End -

_Dedicated to all who have loved and lost: _

_On the 19th of May, 2011 I lost my 15 year old son so I can say with great confidence you will laugh again. You may not believe me now, but you will later. My love to you all._


End file.
